


Interaction [DreamNotFound]

by LostOurWings



Series: Technological Dependancy [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Boyfriends, Complete, Eventual Romance, Fanfiction, Fluff, M/M, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 41,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27739762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostOurWings/pseuds/LostOurWings
Summary: _______________Dream and George live in a world completely controlled by the government and the technology they've created.The main rule of society? Don't interact with others.So what happens when George breaks that rule?Suddenly, George is thrown into a world he's never seen before. A world where the government is no longer his protector, but his only enemy.Through stolen automobiles, smart coding, and a careful sense of trust, George makes his way across the world to the only other person he remembers he can trust: His old friend, Dream.But when they finally meet, it's… different than he could have ever imagined.George is falling hard, and Dream can barely keep up. Meanwhile, others are running, struggling to face the government and their tests.But there's a twist. A single command…Can turn the world upside down, and with it, the very lives of the people Dream - and George - love._______________1000: December 9th, 20202000: December 28th, 20203000:  January 21st, 20214000: February 15th, 2021_______________Completed!Scenes of violence, death, panic attacks (can be skipped)No smut.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Skeppy/Badboyhalo
Series: Technological Dependancy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187063
Comments: 54
Kudos: 218





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi i decided to put this on ao3 so here you are idk how this works so bye ig

Far away, a machine was moving.  
The spherical body of a hemibot, shining dully, split apart halfway through horizontally. The top half raised itself off the body, extended by a pole through the hemibot's middle, and began to rotate, turning a full 180 degrees around and then pausing at the table that was now in front of its top half.  
The machine waited a full 5 seconds, as if determining its next action, and then lowered its top half back onto its body with a soft thud. There was another pause, and a single hole opened in the hemibot's middle. Slowly, carefully, an arm-like extension made its way out.  
Yet another pause. Hemibots were an elaborate piece of technology, but not perfect… yet. Someday, maybe. But not yet.  
The arm moved to the table, nimbly tapping an embedded screen, which came to life instantly. The Hemibot's arm whirred as it typed out a message.  
It took nearly 20 minutes for the entirety to be done, but when it was, the robot paused once again, retracted its arm, and waited.  
It took 4.279 seconds for the data to be transferred to the Hemibot's core.  
From there, the bot simply labeled it "Announcement 1057".  
The said announcement was then sent out to a select contact list, labeled "Executives" in the machine's records.  
A few moments later, the announcement was returned to the Hemibot, having been approved by an executive, one who was not a machine but a person, a real, living, breathing person. The machine, unable to comprehend this, didn't bother trying.  
Instead, it accessed its records again, this time selecting one marked "Society". A plain, simple name, in the Hemibot's opinion. But then again, it didn't really have an opinion. It was, after all, just a robot.  
And yet the bot paused, and didn't quite send the message just yet. Perhaps just another inevitable pause due to the technology. Or perhaps… something else.  
Nevertheless, the machine reverted its power once again, and sent the message, wirelessly, to the chosen contact.  
All across the world, phones emitted the same soft chime.  
A new era was coming.


	2. Announcement

It was raining outside.  
George could hear the soft pattering of droplets on his window, high up in his lonely flat in the center of London.  
It was Saturday, the only good day, in his opinion. George pulled back the blinds and was greeted with the familiar sight of a gray sky, slightly obscured by the water flowing down his windowpane.  
It was a normal sight, for where George lived. He squinted down at the empty streets and sighed. The rain didn't matter much - he didn't usually go outside anyways - but the lack of light in his flat made the surroundings seem rather gloomy.  
By this time, his flat was usually filled with light, being around 1:00 pm when he was required to wake up. The missing friendliness his flat usually carried was a strange difference, and not one that George particularly liked.  
George stepped away from the window, leaving the blinds open, and reached for his phone, wincing slightly as the black silicone band he wore rubbed slightly against his wrist. He hadn't quite gotten used to it after the government had introduced them a few months ago.  
They were meant to help, they said. A confirmed, strict lifestyle that everyone would lead.  
George didn't quite get why.  
He picked at the band for a moment, and then turned to his phone once more. No notifications, of course. But something caught his eye.  
In the center of the screen, against the required black background, a small, digital printed envelope was displayed.  
A new announcement. When had the last one of those been posted? The government was so confusing these days.  
Frowning, George swiped up and began to read the robotized text displayed on the screen. As he did, his eyes widened.  
Halfway across the world, another was about to do the same.

Clay was just beginning to wake up.  
It was a hot day in central Florida, and rather humid, as it was September and quickly approaching October. Of course, it was precisely 8:00 am - the time everyone in Clay's district was required to wake up.  
The vibrating band on his wrist grew slightly stronger, an everlasting reminder that it was time to get up. It wouldn't stop until his heart rate elevated enough to signal that he had gotten out of bed.  
Clay groaned, swiping mindlessly at the band, and groggily sat up on his bed. The sunlight was bright, almost unbearably so, and considering his exposed window was right next to his bed, it wasn't the greatest way to wake up.  
Thankfully, his band sensed that he was no longer sleeping, and shut off automatically. Clay let out a sigh of relief and grabbed his phone off his white desk next to his window, as per usual. He imputed the standard phone password everyone was required to use, simply "password10" for the month of September, and watched as his phone unlocked, revealing the usual black screen.  
But something was different.  
Against his black screen, in stark contrast, a digital envelope was displayed.  
A new announcement. When had the last one of those been posted? The government was so confusing these days.  
Clay tapped on the screen, opening the announcement, and briefly scrolled through. His eyes flashed over the text. Interact… forbidden… tests - wait. Tests?  
Moving his finger up the page, Clay's eyes widened. Tests. More of them.  
The government tested 10 subjects every month, Clay knew this. But this announcement clarified that the tests had been moved closer together.  
They were now two weeks apart. Twice a month.  
Clay inhaled, trying to stay calm, and closed the announcement, shutting his eyes briefly to block out the blinding sunlight streaming through the window next to him. He leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths in a futile attempt to stall his now rapid heartbeat.  
Clay's wristband beeped loudly, alerting him of his elevated heart rate, and he winced. He clamped his hands over his ears, but not just because of the beeping.  
It was an extremely small chance of getting picked, with just ten out of the millions - no, billions of people - getting chosen every month. Even with the new increase in numbers, it wasn't likely that he would become a victim - no, a subject. Not a victim.  
But he couldn't keep the thoughts out of his head.  
The look on his father's face. The screaming. The torturous sounds that felt like they lasted the whole night.  
His mother's screams.  
No. No.  
Clay inhaled sharply, forcing his eyes open, shaking his head in another attempt to clear the thousands of thoughts, memories, racing through his head at an alarming rate. He took an unsteady step away from the counter and looked to the window.  
It was a sunny day. He had lots to get done.


	3. Caught

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to throw all of my written chapters on here so I can sync my update schedule so here (also how tf do i already have 12 hits i-)

Darryl was late again.

It was exactly 6:02 pm in central Florida, and rather hot. But that wasn't the issue.

Darryl was supposed to be home by 5.

Zak, at their shared home, was worried sick.

He rarely ever showed his true feelings, but he was all alone, and rather worried about his boyfriend. Why wasn't he home yet?

It set Zak on edge, even though he knew Darryl was probably fine... probably. There was still a chance that...

No. He couldn't think of that.

The announcement had come out that very morning - he had seen it when he woke up, at precisely 8:00 am, of course.

It worried him.

Of course, it was very selective, who they chose to test. The chances of either him or his boyfriend getting picked were extremely unlikely.

But still.

Zak couldn't help but worry as he paced around the room. What if Darryl had gotten hurt? Been picked randomly for testing, even though it wasn't the end of the month? Interacted with somebody even though he knew he wasn't supposed to, Zak had told him so many times-

The door flew open, and Darryl hurried in, the warm autumn breeze carrying after him. "Zak!" He exclaimed in excitement, shutting the door in a flurry and rushing to set down his large, brown backpack on the nearby table.  
Zak, however, stayed where he was, relief mixed with anger coursing through his body. The anger won, and he glared at Darryl, arms crossed. "You're late. Again."

Darryl brushed it off. "It's nothing, I was just testing out our software development. Did you know the new update for Hemibots is set to come out next week?" Excited, he opened his bag and began rummaging through it.

Zak stepped forwards. "Darryl!"

Darryl paused, looking up from his bag. Seeing Zak's concerned expression, he stood up all the way, tilting his head in confusion. "What? What is it?"  
Zak sighed in exasperation. "Do you know how worried I was? When you didn't come back? What if something had happened? What if you had gotten hurt- or chosen- or someone had interacted with you-"

Darryl cut him off, pulling him into a hug. Zak let himself relax into Bad's chest, who, despite the common contradictions, was just a bit taller than Zak.

"What if something had happened..." Zak mumbled into Darryl's chest. Darryl stepped back. "But nothing did happen," he reminded Zak gently.

Reluctantly, Zak nodded, turning to the ground. "So... how was work today?"  
Darryl worked for the government, as a tech supporter. That was, in fact, one of the most highly valued positions in not only their district, but the whole world - and he had worked hard for it. The only problem was the long hours he was required to spend in the laboratory, while Zak waited at home, with nothing to do... at least not as far as most knew.

Darryl didn't have his usual reaction of excited glee, which threw Zak off for a moment. "It was... good," Darryl said finally, avoiding eye contact with Zak and opening his bag again, pulling out a small black band identical to the one on his own wrist and examining it for a second before swapping them and putting the first back in the bag.

Zak frowned, walking closer to Darryl. "Hey," he said gently. When Darryl didn't respond, he tapped his shoulder, causing him to look up. "What's going on?"

Darryl shook his head. "It's nothing... just..."

"Yeah?" Zak prodded.

Darryl closed his bag, dropping it on the floor, and looked up at Zak. "The tech we're working with today... I don't know. It's getting really advanced, Zak. Like really advanced."  
Zak's eyebrows drew together in concentration. "What do you mean, exactly?"  
Darryl sighed. "I had a conversation with a Hemibot Ultra today, Zak. And it knew everything. I mean everything. Anything I asked about myself, it knew." He furrowed his eyebrows. "And it's just... discomforting, that a Hemibot could know all that, y'know? Like..." He paused for a moment, and then went on. "One of my tasks was to ask how many interactions I've had... and it knew. In detail. Both of them."

Zak swallowed hard. "How?"

Darryl had only had two interactions with other people, both which could have cost him his life - but he had evaded the punishments, mostly due to his high status among the government.

One of those interactions had been with Zak.

Both those interactions had been kept private.

Up until now.

Darryl shrugged. "The microchips, I guess? I'm not really sure. But it was really strange."

Microchips. What were those again?

Zak shook off the thought and looked up, his eyes meeting Darryl's. "I've already told you how I feel about this, Darryl..."

Darryl sighed again. "I know, I know. It hasn't been too bad lately, though. Maybe this tech is just something out society needs."

Zak nodded, still disquieted, as Darryl said distractedly "Y'know, it said something strange today... That signals had been picked up from our house, or something like that, I'm not really sure. Outside of our borders during the day - or along those lines."

Zak's blood turned to ice.

Darryl looked up again and said thoughtfully, "Must be a bug... I'll work on it tomorrow, try and get it to work again. I think the microchip might be interfering with out extra sample band..."

He kept talking, but Zak couldn't hear him. Outside of borders. Outside of borders.

How were they tracking him?

"Hey, Darryl?" Zak interrupted, earning Darryl's attention. "Yeah?"  
"These new bots... can they track us? Like where we're going?"  
Darryl frowned, deep in thought. "No... but we're testing that new software update, remember? The one for the microchips. That must be where they got the tracking information from." He shook his head. "I still can't imagine why they tracked us wrong, though. I was sure the update was ready to go..."

Zak's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest.

_They knew. ___

____

____

But then why hadn't he been arrested yet?  
Zak knew too well he wasn't supposed to go out of borders during any part of his daily life. He knew he wasn't allowed to interact with others. Nobody was.

That didn't stop him from going out to hunt every day.

He had to do _something _. He couldn't just stay inside all day, not when there was a thick forest just a bit away from their residence, full of places to practice his skills with an axe.__

____

__

But he hadn't known they were tracking his movement.

Maybe they didn't know it was him? Maybe they thought it was a bug? A glitch in the technology?

No, there was no way. Impossible. They knew everything.

So that brought up the real question: Why hadn't they taken him?

The penalty for disobedience was death, no matter the reason, the one exception being a high status - which Zak, unfortunately, was lacking.

It didn't make sense.

Zak was startled out of his thoughts by Darryl's voice. "Zak?"  
Zak looked up. "Sorry... zoned out a bit there," he replied. "Yeah?"

Darryl narrowed his eyes slightly, but dropped it. "I'm going to finish my update onweb quickly, but I'll be back in a bit. You okay?"

The last bit was said due to the fact that Zak seemed to have tuned out again. "Sorry, yeah. That's fine - I was just going to make dinner anyways," he answered, thoughts running through his head.

Darryl turned and hurried up the stairs, leaving Zak standing in place, utterly confused and just a bit nervous.

What was going on? More importantly, how was he going to explain this to Darryl-

Crunch. Crunch.

Zak knew that sound too well. It was the sound of tires on gravel. And not just any gravel - the gravel right outside of their house.

Confusion, then fear, clouded Zak's thoughts. Clumsily, he ran to the nearest window, pulling back the opaque curtains frantically and scanning the area. His eyes found the inevitable.

There, right on their driveway, was a sleek, silver vehicle, closely resembling a car, but just a bit smaller, and elongated. A Hemibot was built in at the wheel. A sleekmobile, s-mob for short. One of the more expensive ones, too, by the looks of it.

And on the side seat?  
A representative of the government, shown by his faceted crystal pinned to the right of his shirt, the same one Darryl wore every day.

He was armed.

And so were the men in the back.

Panic erupted in Zak's chest, and he stepped away from the window, tripping over himself, what to do what to do what to do-

And then one got out. And stood up. And pointed a silver gun at Zak's head.

"We are armed. You are surrounded. Show yourselves."

The metallic voice of the officer rang through the air, freezing Zak in place.

His feet felt rooted to the ground. He couldn't move.

But then an image of Darryl flashed through his mind. Darryl, with his sweet smile. Darryl, who had worked so hard for this position. He couldn't afford to give it all up. He couldn't surrender. Not like this.

Zak turned and ran.


	4. Flee

Zak sprinted through the house, blinded by panic, barely able to see. "Darryl! DARRYL!"

He skidded to a stop at the foot of the stairs. They looked so white. Why did they look so white?

The panic was growing. He could hear the door to the vehicle outside open. Where was Darryl _where was Darryl- ___

____

____

And then Darryl was at the top of the stairs, a confused expression on his face. "What? Zak, what is it?"

Zak shook his head. "I-"

But Darryl was there, waiting, with no clue at all to what Zak had done - and in that moment, Zak made up his mind.

"Darryl, we have to go. Now. I'll explain on the way, but just grab whatever and come on-"  
He was interrupted by a few forceful knocks on the door. Zak grabbed the banister, terror in his eyes. "Darryl _come on- _"  
Darryl, fear evident in his face, didn't even respond. Instead, he snapped into action, grabbing his backpack from earlier off of the side of the stairwell, and ran down the stairs. "Let's go."__

____

____

Shock passed briefly through Zak's thoughts, but he shook them off. "Come on," he said, panic running wild through his head as he rounded the banister and headed towards the back door.

The knocks on the front door intensified, slowly becoming a steady pounding on the door. Zak, breathless, reached the back door. Standing on his tiptoes, he barely managed to reach the window to the right of the door. The forest stood there, thick yet elegent, the last wisps of sunlight streaming through the branches as the sun slowly set.

Zak was about to look away when something caught his eye. A glimmer of silver.

The barrel of a gun, pointing out from behind the tree closest to them.

Another on the left. And yet another, to their right.

They were surrounded.

_Shit. ___

____

__

Zak's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He turned to face Darryl, desperation clear on his face. "We're surrounded - what do we do-"  
Without hesitation, Darryl looped back to the staircase and headed to the basement. Zak followed, struggling slightly to keep up. "Darryl- Where are we going-"

Darryl didn't answer, only charging down the steps and closing the door situated at the top of the stairs behind them, locking it with a smooth silver key he quickly produced from his pocket. Zak's eyes widened. _Since when was there a lock on that door? ___

____

____

They reached the floor of the basement quickly enough, Zak's heart beating rapidly as he looked around the dank, concrete room. "Darryl?"

Darryl looked up suddenly, snapping out of his daze and staring at Zak. "Yeah?"

Zak waited, open-mouthed, and then shook his head. "I- why are we down here?"

"Ah, yes!" Darryl smiled, turning away from Zak. He raised his right wrist, black band evident against his pale skin, and pressed it against the concrete wall closest to him.

Nothing happened.

Zak, uncomfortable, shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Darryl stayed where he was.

From above, a loud bang sounded, and the resonating footsteps began to thud heavily around the main floor. Zak, panicking once more, tugged on Darryl's other arm. "They're here-"

And then the wall _rippled._

Darryl stepped back, wrist still aimed at the wall, and motioned frantically to Zak. "It won't stay for long, Zak. Go in."

Zak's brain felt like it had been fried a hundred times over, but he didn't argue. As the footsteps from above grew increasingly louder, he stepped forwards, cautiously reaching a hand towards the wall.

The moment his hand made contact, the wall rippled again and split apart where he touched it, exposing the dark, menacing space behind it.

Zak inhaled sharply. "Whaaaat? That's so... cool!" He swiped his hand through the wall, watching as the particles parted where he touched. "How-"

The nausea hit suddenly, striking Zak nearly hard enough to cry out. He stumbled backwards, the room spinning, his hand suddenly tingling with an unknown sensation.

From behind, Darryl gasped. "Zak?"  
Zak couldn't respond, hand suddenly aching with pain, nausea overcoming him.

Fear grew in Darryl, pushing him enough to grab Zak by the arm. "You have to go through first, Zak! They're almost here-"  
A loud bang came from the top of the staircase. Their door had been discovered.

Zak took a deep breath, trying to steady himself enough to stand. Slowly, painfully, he made it back to the wall, ignoring the yells from the door above. The wall shimmered again. Zak inhaled, then exhaled, and then stepped inside.

The world spun, a black void, and then tilted. He was falling... falling...

And then he hit the ground, concrete floor slamming into his knee and shoulder, gasping in pain as his head resonated with pain.

A split second later, Darryl fell next to him. The shimmering wall solidified, and Zak, through the pain, reached up to touch it.

It was pure concrete.

But how-

Darryl was already up, grabbing Zak's arm. "Come on, Zak. They're not far behind..."  
Zak's head was still spinning, and he closed his eyes briefly. He had to do this. He had to get up and keep going.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The steady beeping of Zak's wristband forced him to open his eyes, his head not giving him as much pain as before, thankfully. He squinted at the screen. Elevated heart rate, it warned.

Had it been like that the whole time?  
Turning away from the screen, Zak pushed himself to his feet. "Let's go," he whispered to Darryl, managing to gain his balance somewhat as he stood.

Darryl nodded, swiftly beginning to move, and with a jolt, Zak realized the black space was much more than just space.

It was un underground tunnel.

And it looked like it led straight to the forest.


	5. Escape

Zak would have been fascinated if he hadn't been so terrified.

Darryl was hastening down the tunnel, but then paused, consulting two different paths before them. One down the left, and one led to the right-

In the direction of the forest.

Zak tugged on Darryl's sleeve. "This way!"  
Darryl frowned. "But that's just the forest. We should probably go towards the center of town, which is this way-"  
Zak shook his head. "I know the forest, Darryl. Like really well. We can escape this way, I'm sure of it."  
Darryl hesitated. Zak knew the forest? How? Since when?

But if he was sure...

Cautiously, Darryl nodded. "Ok, Zak. I... I trust you."

They headed down the right tunnel.

The darkness was uncomfortably present, enveloping both of them as they walked, the only source of light being the dim glow of their wristbands.

The floor became gradually damper, and Darryl walked carefully, while Zak trampled right through it. He dealt with wet ground all the time in the forest. It was normal, at least to him.

The shouts and bangs from their house slowly faded away, but they both knew they weren't safe. The next stage of attack would be to search all around the house, including the forest. Darryl was especially aware of that.

They must have walked for at least 20 minutes by the time they reached the end of the tunnel. The concrete walls had all but become stone, and the ground was grassy and damp, somehow having managed to grow foliage without much light.

There didn't appear to be a clear place to exit. Zak looked around, confusion etched on his face. "Where do we go?"  
His wristband was still beeping annoyingly loudly, accompanied by Darryl's, making it rather hard to think. However, Darryl knew what to do.

Reaching up, Darryl ran his fingers along the wall, searching blindly in the darkness. His fingers touched, then firmly grasped the rusty iron lever located at the top of the right wall, pulling it down with as much force as he could muster.

The lever squeaked, and then slowly began to move, sliding along the wall and slowly lowering a large, circular trapdoor from the ceiling far above.

Darryl motioned to a metal ladder climbing up the left wall. "You go first. I'll follow."

Zak, confused, couldn't seem to feel his arms. Or legs. In fact, it seemed that his whole body had gone numb. Out of what? Confusion? Maybe.

Nevertheless, he was somehow able to grasp the ladder in front of him, climbing up one rung, then another, and another. His consciousness retreated to the back of his mind as he climbed, leaving his arms and legs on autopilot and his mind spewing an endless supply of questions.

What was even going on?  
One second it was a normal day, and then Darryl was late home... And then half the government was at their door, pointing guns at them, and then the wall opened up right in front of his eyes and he walked right through it and god knows where he's going-

Zak's thoughts were cut off abruptly when he reached the top of the ladder, crashing back into his own body as his head hit the edge of the trapdoor closest to him. He winced in pain.

From below, Darryl yelled something, but Zak couldn't hear him. He focused on his arms, which had begun to ache, moving along the side of the ladder until the trapdoor was no longer above him. The fresh forest air wafted around him, allowing his muscles to just slightly relax as he inhaled. The scent of comfort. The scent of... home.

Reaching above him, Zak's hand made contact with the damp, mossy ground above. He hauled himself up with a grunt and brushed himself off as he stood up.

The sun had gone down, leaving the forest in a beautiful, yet slightly erie, state. The branches around Zak rustled slightly with the wind, and he shivered, not used to the cool night air. He would have been back hours ago on a normal day.

But today wasn't normal.

Zak turned back to the trapdoor, noting how well disguised it was: The top was covered in foliage, and would easily fit in with the forest floor. No wonder he hadn't ever found it.

Looking down the ladder, Zak made out Darryl at the bottom. Cupping his hands to his mouth, Zak yelled down. "Come up!"

He could see Darryl nod, and then he began to ascend the ladder slowly, climbing up one rung at a time. Zak stood, shifting his weight from foot foot, impatient.

Panting slightly, Darryl reached the top of the ladder. He looked up at Zak. "Uh... how do I get... out?"  
Zak rolled his eyes, but bent down, grabbing Darryl's arm. "Here."  
With Zak's help, Darryl managed to climb out of the hole, and stood, gasping, staring at the open trapdoor below him. "Should we close it?"

Zak hesitated for a moment, and then kneeled on the wet ground, grabbing the edge of the trapdoor from the inside and pulling it. After a moment, he looked up at Darryl. "You gonna help, or just stand there?"  
Darryl, flushing, gingerly kneeled on the forest ground and helped pull the trapdoor. Before long, they had managed to get it most of the way up. A soft click was heard as it settled back into place, the grass on top blending with the environment around them and making the door nearly invisible.

Both stood up, not quite knowing what to do. After a moment, Zak awkwardly took the reins. "They'll be searching here soon, right?"  
Darryl nodded. "They've probably already started, and they can track us through our microchips and bands, so they'll be on our trail..."  
Zak nodded, restlessly shifting his weight once more, just another coping strategy to him. "So should we like... go somewhere? I know the forest pretty well..."  
Darryl hesitated. "What if we..."  
Zak raised an eyebrow. "What if we what?"  
Darryl took a deep breath. "What if we just... turned ourselves in? I don't know why we're running... we're innocent anyways, and we've done nothing wrong. What could they hold against us?"  
Tears pricked at the corners of Zak's vision.

Darryl didn't know.

"Zak? Are you okay?" Darryl asked, concerned.

Zak looked up, blinking rapidly.

"Darryl..."  
Darryl frowned. "Yeah?"  
Now it was Zak's turn to take a deep breath. "I... I may have disobeyed the rules a bit..."  
Darryl furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"  
Zak looked down. "I... I'm not always... in the house during the day, you know?"  
Darryl stared. _What did Zak mean? He wasn't in the house? Where else could he- ___

____

____

And then it clicked. Darryl's head jolted up, making eye contact.

"You were in the forest? All those times?"  
Zak nodded.

Darryl was overwhelmed. _But why? And why would he risk... everything? It could ruin our lives! ___

____

__

Zak, sensing Darryl's confused state, sighed. "I... I hunt... in the forest. I'm pretty decent with an axe."  
When Darryl didn't respond, he tried again. "Well, you didn't really expect me to spend every day alone in our house... did you?"  
It was apparent Darryl had. However, the tense silence was broken by a crack.

A branch.

But neither of them had moved.

Zak, without hesitation, grabbed Darryl's arm. "We need to go. Now."  
Darryl moved without complaint.

The two continued through the forest.


	6. Careful

It was a dark, muted evening in George's flat. The stars weren't visible, at least not that George could see.

He didn't watch the stars much anyways.

It was still hours ahead of his required bedtime, so he was free to do whatever.

But he had nothing to do.

The government announcement had been nagging him the entire day, even as he went through his usual routine.

George worked for the government, but wasn't a big name - he only coded a few commands for lower Hemibots, ones that were meant to help out around the city during the day, when nobody else was there.

It wasn't a high enough status to get recognized.

And it certainly wasn't high enough to get spared should he be selected as test subject.

But he was working his way up. Over the last few weeks, he had been helping code a new microchip that would be injected to replace the ones already imbedded in citizen's skulls, with new features. They would now be able to wirelessly track everyone with a microchip, instead of using bands to track location.

Bands were a good mechanism, but location was something that needed to be controlled, at least that was what George believed. And the problem with bands was that although they were secured with a small pin injected through the wrist, done at birth, this could still be removed with enough force. It would hurt, but it could be done.

That was why they needed something else. Something that couldn't be removed. Something like a microchip, one that could be injected into the skull by a Hemibot, and not manually removed.

They had already started testing the location trackers, actually. The update had gone out as a test to a select few subjects, and it was working surprisingly well.

George dropped onto his bed, tired even though he shouldn't technically go to bed for another few hours. He couldn't have slept if he wanted to, anyways. His head was full of thoughts.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared.

With the monthly tests up 50 percent, it was just another increase that left him and his family in danger.

The tests had originally been announced to happen twice a year, but had been increased to 8 times a year before they had even started. Soon after, it was raised to 10, and then 12.

Now, 24.

George felt something vibrate and looked down. Without realizing, he had picked up his phone and attempted the password.

It was password10. He needed to remember that. He had been using password09 for so long, it was hard to get accustomed to a new password entirely. It wasn't Eiron anymore, it was September. Not Eiron, September.

George fidgeted with his phone, one thought present in his head.

Should he call his family?

It was forbidden, of course, but he had long since hacked his phone to let him make calls without being tracked.

What if he just quickly called?

It wouldn't last long, just a couple of minutes. He couldn't be tracked, and he hadn't talked to his family for so long - would it really hurt just to check in?

Glancing around to make sure nobody was there, even though he now lived alone in his flat, George turned back to his phone, typing in "password10" and watching as it unlocked. He opened "commander", which allowed him to input code, and ran the command "start:phone_call_untracked;UDBG_1057". It took a few seconds, but his phone flashed white, vibrated, and then offered a list of numbers to type.

Hands shaking, George typed his Dad's phone number and cautiously held the phone up to his ear.

It rang once. Twice.

And then his Dad picked up.

"Status: citizen, Number: 064," his Dad said instantly into the phone.

George shushed him. "It's me, Dad. Don't worry, they can't track me. Nobody knows."

There was a second of silence, and then his Dad gasped. "George?"  
Grinning, George started to answer. "Yeah, I just-"  
His Dad interrupted. "What are you _doing? _You could get caught! Are you insane?!"__

____

____

George winced slightly, but replied "No, I'm not insane, Dad. I made sure this call isn't being tracked, ok? I just wanted to know how you guys are doing..."

He heard his dad sigh, and then answer. "We're doing fine... we haven't been separated, at least not yet. Did you hear about the announcement this morning?"  
George nodded, and then realized his Dad couldn't see him. He bit his lip. "Yeah, I did. Kind of scary, to be honest."  
"Completely," his Dad answered. There was a pause on his end of the line.

"Dad?" George asked hesitantly. There was no answer.

Tense, George waited a minute more, and then said again. "Dad?"

There was no answer.

Suddenly, static erupted on his end of the line, and his Dad said urgently "Hang on for a second, George, there's someone at the door."

Fear, mixed with panic, began to trickle in. Had someone been chosen?

But they would have been notified by microchip, not personal delivery... besides, it wasn't even choosing day.

So what was it?  
More noise occurred, and in the background, George could make out his mother saying something loudly.

"George?"

His Dad again. "Yeah?"

His Dad sighed once more. "I'm going to have to call you later... can't be getting caught making interactions, now, can we?"

George, though disappointed, understood. "Yeah, ok. Talk to you later-"  
The line cut off, and a dial tone sounded. George dropped the phone to the bed, tired once more.

And worried.

Who had been at the door?

There wasn't anyone living in his Dad's house, just his Dad and Mom, who lived together. George had no siblings, and his parents worked from home, both helping fix bugs for the earlier generations of Hemibots. Neither of them would have broken the rules.

So they couldn't be in trouble... could they?

George picked up his phone and opened commander again, typing in the reverse of his earlier command in order to shut off the system running his calls. As he did, the machine gave a little message.

Frowning, George stared at the screen. Recorded? Another message appeared.

It hit George like a ton of bricks.

They had tracked his call.

No. No, this couldn't be happening. What if they arrested him? Would they kill his parents? Would they hurt him? Would he lose... everything?

George inhaled, exhaled, rapid breaths increasing along with his panic.

But how? He had used the phoning service dozens of times, and never had an issue.

A beeping from his wrist alerted him to an elevated heart rate. George took a deep breath, trying to calm his frantically running thoughts.

So they had tracked him. But they wouldn't be able to hear what he had said, nor his Dad- the audio was deleted immediately after received.

They wouldn't be able to pinpoint his location, although the general area would be known.

They wouldn't know who had made the call, nor who had received it.

But the technology was getting more advanced by the day. He couldn't risk making another call. Who knew what was next? With time, they could access his audio, his location, his identity-

The beeping from his wristband shut off. This was fine. Everything was fine.

George just had to be careful.


	7. Leave

It was nearing midnight.

Zak could tell by the sky. Besides spending his days in the forest, he had also commonly watched the stars from his window, often staying up past midnight in silence as Darryl slept in the room just next to him.

Just another thing the government would have known.

It still confused Zak why they hadn't struck sooner. Sure, the wireless location tracking was a new feature, but they would have known from his wristband that he was acting physically during the day, and not sleeping much some nights.

So why was it only now that they had come for him?

Why had he thought he could get away with this in the first place?

Beside him, Darryl was shivering, not used to the freezing winds whipping around the forest. Zak considered offering his sweatshirt, but ultimately decided against it. He and Darryl hadn't talked since they had started walking, only striding on through the forest in complete silence.

A branch cracked, and Zak jumped, instantly alert, eyes darting over the trees around them. Darryl winced. "Sorry..."

Zak rolled his eyes, resuming his casual stance, and continued to walk, not bothering to answer. Darryl tried to step quietly.

A few minutes later, another branch cracked. Zak jumped, and then turned to Darryl angrily. "Could you cut it out?"  
Darryl glared back. "It's not my fault I can't walk quietly in a forest, Zak! You're the one spending every single day here!"  
Zak retaliated. "Can't you just be quiet? They could hear you at any second. We need to be safe, Darryl!"

Darryl scoffed. "Like you can say that! You're the one who got us- who got us into this... this whole thing..."  
His voice trailed off, and he looked down. Guilt swam into Zak's stomach, but he ignored it and kept walking, avoiding eye contact and remaining silent.

They walked for some time before another crack was heard.

Instantly, Darryl turned to Zak. "See? I didn't even do anything-"

Zak shushed him, grabbing his arm and yanking him to the forest floor, tensing up.

Darryl hadn't made that noise.

Someone was here.

Trying to stay silent, Zak craned his neck, looking around the nearby trees, hidden by the shadows in the night. He wished he had his axe with him. He had left it in the hollow of a tree near the house, and it would be too dangerous to go back.

After a couple of moments, nothing had showed itself, so Zak deemed it safe to head out once more. He pulled himself up. "We have to hurry. They can't be far behind-"  
That was as far as he got before a strong hand grabbed his arm, and another clamped over his mouth. Next to him, Darryl let out a muffled cry.

Instinct kicked in, and Zak lashed out, kicking backwards, struggling against the person who held him. The person gripped his hands harder, and Zak hissed in pain.

"Stay quiet," the person hissed in his ear. Zak ignored him and kept on fighting. "Mph- let me go-"

There was a short scuffle, and then the hand pressed to Zak's mouth moved slightly, grasping something and then bringing it back to his mouth. Zak, sensing danger, clamped his mouth shut. His captor, however, brought whatever he was holding to Zak's mouth and forced him to eat it.

Zak gasped, choking, as he swallowed the bitter substance. It had the texture of a dry leaf... actually, it quite resembled a dry leaf...

And it hit him.

A forest drug. A special type of plant implemented into the environment by the government, in order to contain certain plant types and restrict human access.

But which type? Not poison, he knew that much. He would have been dead already had that been the case.

He could no longer hear Darryl, and worry sparked through his mind.

A split second later, his limbs gave out.

Zak slumped in his captor's arms, limp, unable to move, watching through barely open eyes as the world around him spun. Fear lit in his chest, trying to force him awake.

He couldn't sleep. Darryl needed him.

Zak tried to hit something, anything, but his hand refused to move. His captor gently lowered him to the ground.

"N... no..." Zak's mind was whirling with emotions. Anger, because he shouldn't have let them take him. Guilt, for that same reason. Fear, because who were these people, using forest drugs to sedate them? Desperation, because he had to get up, had to keep going, had to get up-

But he couldn't, no matter how he tried. The world blurred around him, turning a hazy blend of dark blues and greens. He felt his head hit the floor, but gently. Desperately, he tried one last time to open his eyes. _Please... ___

____

____

He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. Relaxing into the floor, Zak's vision slid, then turned black.

When he woke up, he couldn't see.

The world had yet to revert to its original state, and for now, everything was hazy and dark. Zak tried to move and found that he couldn't.

Faint sounds echoed around him, footsteps, a curtain being pulled-

Light.

It flooded Zak's vision, making him want to curl up into a ball and hide. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option, as he hadn't fully gained back control of his limbs yet.

The footsteps grew louder, stopping at Zak's feet, from where he lay on the ground. Then, they lightly touched Zak's shoulder.

It was like a switch had been flipped.

Suddenly, his whole body hurt. Like hurt. His head ached, his limbs felt heavy and bruised, and his wrist-

His wrist was glowing with a searing pain, feeling like it was going to literally fall off.

Zak groaned loudly. His throat hurt.

It was then that he remembered Darryl.

The pain in his wrist seemed to go away for a split second as he struggled to sit up. He almost made it... he was so close...

And then he fell back onto the rough forest terrain, exhausted from the effort, the pain in his wrist coming back with what seemed like twice as much force.

Zak groaned in despair. The figure above him chuckled lightly. "Sorry about that. Had to put you to sleep before you got too aggressive, right?"  
Zak stared. The figure had a distinct accent, though Zak couldn't quite place it. "Who are you?"  
The figure stepped into the light, allowing Zak to make out his features. "The names Eret. I'm not here to hurt you, by the way."

Skeptical, Zak regarded him with narrowed eyes. "Where's Darryl?"  
Eret frowned. "Oh, your companion? He's just in the other room." His brow furrowed slightly. "Hold on-"

Zak watched, fascinated, as Eret closed his eyes and concentrated. After a moment, his eyes flew open again and he nodded.

"Our leader wants to see you... just a moment, if you will."  
Zak waited as Eret left the room. A moment later, a cloaked individual glided in. Zak, I presume?"

Fear pounded into Zak's head, but he ignored it, nodding. The figure smiled. "Well then, Zak, hello and welcome. I think you'll find it comfortable here." He frowned slightly. "We had to remove your wristband to avoid tracking. I'm sure you understand."  
Zak glanced down at his wrist, shock gripping him. That was why it had been hurting so much.

Where his band had been drilled into his wrist, there was now a bloody bandage wrapped around the space.

It hurt like _hell. ___

____

____

Zak frowned. "Where... where am I?"

The figure grinned. "You, Zak, are at our forest outpost. And as for us?" he paused, and then continued.

"My name is Illumina, and I lead the forest upturns."


	8. Tracked

_Attention everyone. We are now in lockdown. All citizens of London, England are restricted to their residence. There will be no further travel, regardless of the cause. Thank you for your cooperation._

George stared at the new message displayed against his formal black screen. Lockdown. They were in lockdown.

He didn't even need to know why. He already knew.

They had traced his call.

Although George had taken care of the more precise location tracking techniques when he used the phone program, his general location could still be traced. They had first traced it down to England. Now, London.

George sighed, flopping on his bed and staring at the message, wishing it would just disappear. This whole thing was ridiculous. He couldn't call anyone, nor interact with anyone. That was the way it had always been.

But he had found ways to get around it.

Now, with his call system jeopardized, he had no chance of being able to use it again, which meant he had to actually stick to the rules. He couldn't talk. To anyone.

The loneliness was already beginning to set in.

And now with lockdown, he couldn't even go outside. Couldn't breathe in the fresh air if he wanted to, or he'd be arrested.

It would just be eat, sleep, and work. A daily routine more than 80% of the population regularly followed, at least in England.

But not regular for him.

George's eyes seemed to suddenly weigh... a lot. Like a lot.

Lying down on the bed, the world seemed to blur. He was so tired.

No. No, he couldn't sleep, not now...

But the darkness took over, and he fell into a world of dreams.

Vibrations from George's wristband woke him up. Cursing inwardly, he sat up on the bed. What now?  
From the time, it seemed he had slept a good half hour. Damn it. He had woken up a mere hour before that - why was he so tired?

Groaning, George flipped his wristband and observed the message.

A pristine white envelope.

An announcement? Again?  
This would be... what, the third that week? Two yesterday, and yet another today? Crazy.

George grabbed his phone, typing in password09, and then remembering that it was in fact September, not Eiron.

Password10 was typed in, and an envelope displayed. George swiped up to view a new message:

_This message is for the two parties involved in the forbidden call made yesterday._

_Turn yourselves in and you will survive._

_Ignore this message and we will track you down._

_You know who you are._

_Lockdown will continue until further notice._

George's heart began to race, and he scrolled down, dismissing the message.

They were talking to him.

His Dad had undoubtedly received the same message. He wouldn't turn himself in...

Would he?  
George wouldn't. He didn't believe the message for a second. There was no way they wouldn't kill him, and even if they didn't, he would be imprisoned for who knew how long.

No, it was settled. He wouldn't turn himself in.

They probably couldn't track him, anyways. They wouldn't have enough information to locate him specifically, so as long as his phone program was left unused...

He was safe.

Probably.

George sighed, and then got himself up off his bed. He should probably do some work... it was only the beginning of the day, and there was always something new to do. Some problem to fix. Some code to be revised.

George moved to his desk, booted up his pc, and checked his emails. A bot report, and nothing more.

George frowned, opening the email. It had been reported yesterday, in late afternoon, by a higher government status. The name given was "Darryl".

Darryl? One of the big names? Wow. Impressive.

George squinted at the text printed. The problem identified was apparently "issues with location identification using microchip".

That was what they had been using to test location tracking, right? The microchips? Darryl must have been one of the testers.

George read some more of the email. It had been sent out to many others of his status, the goal being to collectively fix the issue.

Apparently, the microchip had been displaying fake information, telling them that they had been outside of borders, when they supposedly hadn't. Darryl, the reporter, had said that he suspected the reasoning for this had something to do with the extra location tracking attached to another band - or something like that. Darryl was rather hard to understand.

George skimmed through replies from other workers, but nobody had found the problem. Huh. Interesting, especially since it had already been a day since the problem had came up.

George shifted in his seat, opening up the code for both the new microchip and the latest wristband. He examined the location tracking carefully.

There didn't seem to be anything out of place, at least not as far as George could see. The code looked normal, and the wristband shouldn't have interfered with the location tracking on the microchip, not if it had received the latest update.

Maybe that was it - the band wasn't properly updated?  
No, it couldn't be... Darryl was too large a name to have a later band edition. It had to have been updated.

So then what was causing the issue?  
George worked at it for hours, to no avail. At last, having skipped both breakfast and lunch, he closed the code, left a short report with not really anything to say, and went downstairs to grab a snack, still thinking about the problem.

It just didn't make sense. What was causing the interference?  
Unless they were lying, and there was no problem. That had happened before, but never with someone as important as Darryl...

And why would they lie?  
George finished his snack, went back upstairs, and found he had no motivation. He didn't want to work, he wanted to... go outside. For once.

But of course, he couldn't. Stupid lockdown.

George dropped his head into his hands. Lockdown, a mystery coding issue... and his Dad had never called back. Probably for the best, but George still had no idea who had been at their door. It worried him.

And so George sat on the edge of his bed, alone with his head full of thoughts, wondering what would come next.

He stayed like that for a long time.

He was still lonely.


	9. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I finally figured out how to use _italics _in this thing. Then i had to go back and fix everything and it took forever lmao-__

~ _A week later _~__

__The sun had just began to rise, dusting the forest treetops with a sparkling light._ _

__Zak sat on the edge of a branch, high above the forest outpost below, alone with his head full of thoughts._ _

__They had been at the outpost for a full week now, receiving care from Illumina and the three others at the camp, who had introduced themselves as Eret, Punz and Ponk. Apparently, there were plenty more people in their organization, just not at that particular outpost._ _

__They called themselves the forest upturns._ _

__Zak didn't trust them, not completely, but they were nice enough, offering shelter and food for both him and Darryl. They were free to leave whenever they wanted, but as they didn't really have anywhere to go..._ _

__Well, they just planned to stay there for a while._ _

__Zak still wasn't too clear on what exactly the "forest upturns" were, but he knew that they were against the government._ _

__That was enough for him. Control wasn't his thing anyways, and he hadn't loved their old lifestyle._ _

__But Darryl hated it._ _

__Zak knew how hard Darryl had worked for his position as a tech supporter, and now... well, now they were being chased by the government, all because of Zak._ _

__The guilt was building up. Because of him, Darryl had lost his position. Because of him, they could both die._ _

__A clambering behind Zak startled him, and he turned to see Darryl struggling to climb up the stiff branches. Wordlessly, Zak held out his hand, and Darryl grabbed it, pulling himself up with a grunt._ _

__"Oh my goodness, Zak. How did you even get up here?" He exclaimed, struggling onto the branch next to Zak and letting out a sigh of relief._ _

__Zak didn't reply, merely sitting and watching the peaceful sunrise. Darryl sat next to him in silence._ _

__A few minutes passed, and Zak finally worked up the courage to speak. "Darryl?"  
Darryl turned, slight concern in his eyes. "Yeah?"  
Zak bit his lip nervously. "I think... we need to talk."  
Darryl turned, his concern growing, and faced Zak. But instead of objecting, he nodded. "Yeah... I think so to, Zak..."  
Zak had tried to work out what to say, but once he was face to face with Darryl, it all spilled out at once. "I'm so sorry, Darryl. I'm so sorry. I ruined everything... You lost your position because of me, and I feel so bad, I don't know, I don't know..."  
He turned to Darryl. "What if they catch us? What if-"  
Darryl grabbed his arm. "Woah, woah woah Zak, hold on!" Zak couldn't stop, tears spilling from his eyes. "I don't want to die..."  
Darryl grabbed Zak, forcing him to look in his eyes. "It's gonna be ok, Zak. I'm gonna be with you all the way."_ _

__Zak let his tears flow, vision blurring. His thoughts were all over the place._ _

__How could he have done this to Darryl?  
They sat on the branch for some time, the sun gradually rising in front of them. Eventually, Zak closed his eyes, exhausted, and leaned into Darryl._ _

__Darryl ruffled his hand through his boyfriend's hair gently, sighing._ _

__Zak sat up suddenly. "Darryl?"  
Darryl nodded, confusion flashing across his face briefly. "Yeah?"  
Zak hesitated, and then asked "How did you... do that thing? With the wall?"  
Darryl eyes lit up. "Oh, that? It was a test, one I maneuvered together. The microchip has a custom update I'm testing, and it transfers the information to the band through wireless syncing, which enables the band to scan an object and break it down into particles for a brief period of time, which, in turn, allows human contact to pass right through it!" Darryl broke off, grinning, and turned to Zak, who was just slightly overwhelmed. "And the government allowed you to do that?!"  
Darryl's face fell, and he squirmed around on the branch. "Well... I may have been working on this update without their, er, permission..."  
A small smile found its way to Zak's face. Darryl had never been one to break the rules... but wow, that wristband was epic. His boyfriend had quite the mind._ _

__Darryl added, "But you... you were in the forest! Every day. And I had no idea... how did you pull it off?"  
Zak winced slightly. "I just... every time you left, I left too. I made myself an axe, and hunted small animals - just to practice. I'm pretty good, but I left my axe back at the house, so..."  
Darryl shook his head. "And they only realized now?"_ _

__Zak's forehead creased. "Yeah, that's what I don't get. They must have known, now that I think about it. How didn't they notice?"  
Darryl sighed. "Well, I sent a report about malfunctioning wristbands, so people will be working at that for days now. I feel kinda bad, honestly."  
"Don't," Zak advised. "It's really not your fault"._ _

__Darryl sighed, looking out at the forest. "Do you know, I've been working on this project for months now. I just wanted to get it finished. And Zak..."  
He turned to face Zak, worry in his eyes. "I don't think our government is... The right thing for us anymore. I don't think it's working for us..."  
Zak nodded, still facing the open sky. "I know, Darryl. It's just getting worse. Maybe..." He didn't want to say it, but he did. "Maybe it's better that we left..."  
He was expecting Darryl to retort in anger, but Darryl just nodded. "Maybe."  
They both sat in silence for some time more._ _

__It was then that a voice called._ _

__"Hey!"_ _

__Zak nearly fell off the tree in shock, his heart rate increasing to nearly twice it's previous rate. Darryl leaned over the edge. "Yeah?"  
"Come down!" The voice yelled, and from the edge of the shadows, Zak could make out the cloaked figure below. Illumina._ _

__"Coming!" Zak yelled back his heart rate slowing, and then expertly lowered himself from the branch, jumping the last few feet and landing lightly on the forest floor. Darryl, however, was having some trouble._ _

__"Uh... Zak?" Darryl yelled down, nervousness clear on his face. Zak sighed, hearing Illumina's amused chuckle behind him. "Just lower yourself slowly, and then drop down!" He shouted to Darryl._ _

__Illumina snorted. "If anyone's around, they're going to hear you. I bet I could hear you from a mile away."  
"Yeah, but that's only because you have great instinct," another voice said. Zak spun around as Punz exited from the covering of tents behind them._ _

__From what Zak had heard, the tents were just a temporary outpost. They could be packed up and moved at will, if needed._ _

__There was a thump and a loud "Oof!" Zak turned again to see Darryl on the ground, a sheepish look on his face as he dusted himself off._ _

__Zak walked towards him, the other's voices fading away as they headed back towards the tents. "You okay?"  
"Yep," Darryl replied, getting to his feet. Zak hesitated._ _

___"Uh... We're good, right?"_  
Darryl looked up. "Huh? Yeah, we're good."  
Without a word, the two walked back towards the tents. 


	10. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is it for now, the other like 7 chapters will be posted tmr-

George's blinds were closed, but he could tell it was dark outside.

It must have been around midnight, he figured, which meant he had one hour before his set bedtime. As if on cue, his wristband buzzed with a reminder. A small clock showed on the screen.

George dismissed the warning, sighing, and closed his laptop. He had been struggling to fix the coding issue for a few more hours, stopping briefly to eat a quick dinner, and yet hadn't come any closer to solving the problem. From what he'd seen, nobody else had figured it out either.

George shook his head. It was so confusing. How could this problem even exist? It didn't make sense, the solution was nowhere in sight...

Well, he'd try again tomorrow. For now, George didn't really know what to do. He could call his family- no, he couldn't. That would be way too risky with all the government knew.

George sat in silence for a good 15 minutes.

It was then that his phone rang.

It scared George half to death. He leapt up with an agonized screech, then fell back on the bed, moderately embarrassed at what had just occurred.

The steady beeping of his phone continued.

Exasperated, George grabbed his phone. Fear lit a flame in his heart. Who was calling him? Could they have found him? Did they know?

But how? No, it must be something else.

Then what?  
Hesitantly, George brought the phone to his ear, swiping up to accept the call. "Status: citizen, Number: 135," he said as firmly as he could into the phone.

"George?"  
He knew that voice.

"D-Dad?"

"Yeah!"  
Relief sparked through him. It wasn't the government, they hadn't found him... he was safe.

And then he realized.

"Dad- dad, you need to get off the call-"  
His Dad wasn't listening. "George, they took her away- they took her away, and I don't know where she is. George, listen to me!"  
Fear sparked once more through George's heart. "No, Dad! You- you have to leave, you don't understand-"  
"They took her away, George!" His Dad was practically screaming. "They took your mother away!"

That stopped George in his tracks. "Wha- what?"  
So _that _was who had been at the door. The government.__

__And they had taken his mother away._ _

__"I don't know, George. They said it's because of separation - even though we were legally married before all this hocus pocus about not having interactions started-"_ _

__George shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "It doesn't matter, Dad. You need to leave, now-"_ _

__George's Dad interrupted. "I don't know what to do, George!"  
George's mind had gone blank with fear. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and he couldn't breathe._ _

__"Dad, the announcement! They know we're in London, they know everything, you need to get off the call, you need to _get off- _"  
He was interrupted once more by a loud pounding at the door. But not his door.___ _

____His Dads._ _ _ _

____~tw, panic attack (you can skip to the "tw over" up ahead)~_ _ _ _

____"George- there's someone here, hold on-"  
George's vision went white. He couldn't see. He couldn't breathe._ _ _ _

____No. _No _.___ _ _ _

______"Dad!" George practically screamed, desperation clawing at his throat. No, this couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. He was dreaming. This was all just a bad dream._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then he heard the door open, his Dad talking-_ _ _ _ _ _

______And a yell._ _ _ _ _ _

______"DAD!"_ _ _ _ _ _

______The phone presumably had dropped to the floor, because all George could hear was static and scuffling. A bright red light emitting from his phone forced him to briefly close his eyes, before holding his phone in front of him to see what was happening._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Call recording. ____ _ _ _ _ _

________"George? George, I can't-"  
His Dad's voice was interrupted by a loud crash, followed by steady thumps._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Then noise. Noise on the line._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Who is this?"  
A uniform voice, one he knew too well._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The voice of a government instructor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________George felt numb. He couldn't see. He felt as though he was blind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He hung up the phone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The red light flashed off._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________George couldn't breathe. His vision was white. They had taken her. They knew who he was._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He wasn't aware he had curled up into a ball, tears running down his cheeks, gasping for air._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He didn't know what to do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________His head started to pound. His vision blurred into unrecognizable lines. He felt the tears on his cheeks. They felt so cold._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________So cold._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The world started to spin, but maybe that was because he had fallen over, he didn't know. He couldn't hear. A blur of sound and spinning distortion revolved around him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________Make it stop. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He squeezed his eyes shut, the world plunging into darkness. He couldn't see, couldn't think-_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No. He couldn't go out like this._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________~tw over~_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His head slowly cleared._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He could hear beeping. Loud beeping._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________His heart rate monitor was going crazy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He took a deep breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They would be coming for him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He couldn't think straight, but it was gonna be ok. It had to be ok._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Slowly, George's heart rate fell. His wristband stopped beeping._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He had to leave. If they had already found his Dad, just from that short call..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They would be here any second._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________George leapt to his feet, sending his head spinning, but ignored it. He rushed to his desk. What to bring _what to bring- _____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Grabbing his pc, George wrenched open the closet doors and grabbed a spare backpack. His bag from when he had gone to school, back when interactions with others were permitted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He didn't know why he had kept it, but at least it was useful now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Hesitating, George dropped his computer in the bag. It would slow him down, but it could be useful._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He had no clue where he was going to go, but he had to leave. Now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Running over to his window, George breathlessly pressed his face up against it. He couldn't see any sleekmobiles, but they could be there any minute. He knew that._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He walked to the door. He walked out of the door. He locked the door behind him. He walked down the stairs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________His mind felt numb._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He left his flat, left everything, left his life behind._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He walked out onto the street behind his flat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He started running._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Tears started flowing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________He didn't look back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	11. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of the 7 chapters to be uploaded today. Also, I guess 124 hits isnt a lot but it _sure is a lot for me so TYYYY_

The forest was beautiful at sunset.

Zak watched quietly, outside of the cluster of tents behind him, observing the soft pink light as it filtered through the trees. He had never really watched the sunset from the forest before. It was beautiful.

A soft rustle behind Zak startled him. "Hey, Darryl-"

Illumina dropped down behind him with a soft chuckle, seating himself on the forest floor. "Not quite, but close," he replied, his dark cloak rippling around him with the soft breeze.

Zak grinned sheepishly. "Hey, Illumina."  
He and Darryl had been at the outpost for so long, it was starting to feel like another home, at least for Zak. Illumina, Punz, Ponk - they had all been so welcoming. It was like nothing had changed.

But so much had.

Illuming let out a soft sigh as he watched the sun sink behind the trees. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Zak nodded in silent agreement.

They waited as the sun dropped completely, leaving the forest in a dark, shadowy state. Zak sighed, ready to leave, but Illumina put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"I have a question..."  
Zak turned. "Yeah?"

Illumina frowned slightly, but went on. "Zak, you can't stay here forever. You know that, right? It doesn't matter if we removed your tracking band, there are other ways they can find you... and I can't risk putting my whole group in danger."  
Zak's stomach dropped ever so slightly, but he nodded. He had known it was coming. They couldn't stay sheltered forever, and it was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Illumina turned away from Zak. "We can give you supplies, enough to last a few days at least, but not forever. Do you know where you're going next?"  
Zak shook his head. "No, not really, but if we head towards the city, we can take something... a sleekmobile, maybe, and travel away. Darryl knows how to manage that stuff."  
Illumina nodded slowly. "Ok. When do you..."  
He didn't finish, but Zak knew what he was asking. "In a couple of days, I'm thinking. I'll let Darryl know."  
Illumina turned back thoughtfully. "Alright. I'm sorry we couldn't keep you longer, Zak. It's just that-"  
Zak cut him off. "It's fine, I understand," he assured Illumina.

Illumina nodded again, and then paused, his forehead creasing. Zak stepped forwards, but he flung out an arm, stopping Zak in his tracks and shushing him.

Confused, Zak waited, his body tense. After a few moments, Illumina lowered his arm, visibly shaken. "Something's not right," he said softly, eyes darting across the forest.

Zak opened his mouth, but Illumina spun on his heel, grabbing Zak by the arm and curtly walking towards the tents. "You should get inside, Zak. The forest doesn't feel safe tonight."  
Zak snapped his mouth shut, deciding not to question it, and walked with Illumina back to the tent.

It was then that he heard the gunshot.

Zak froze, and then slammed into the ground, Illumina tackling him. Out of instinct, Zak reared back, fist ready to punch, and Illumina grabbed his hand. "Stay down!"  
Zak, panting, thrashed madly under Illumina. A gunshot. There had been a gunshot. "Where's Darryl-"

"He'll be fine! Just stay here, I need to go fight-"

Another gunshot. Closer, this time.

Zak's mouth felt pasty. Strange. Illumina released him, ran away, what was going on-

And then the army marched out.

The government officials, clad in silver, faceted crystals pinned to their shirts, guns loaded and aimed at-

Punz. Ponk.

And Darryl.

No. It couldn't be real.

_How did they find us?_

And then Illumina ran out from behind the trees, twin daggers in hand, slashing. Zak saw red fly from the scene.

Darryl ran, tripping over tree roots, towards the tents.

No, he wouldn't be safe there, they could catch him-

Zak's common sense stepped in.

_Illumina said not to leave._

_But Darryl's in danger!  
Don't leave._

_But-_

_No._

_But-_

_NO!_

_DARRYL!_

Common sense had lost the fight. Zak yanked himself up from the ground and sprinted towards the tents.

A gunshot. Right behind him.

Zak swerved behind the closest tree, gasping and out of breath. "DARRYL!"

He saw Darryl's head poke out from behind the tent to the left of him. "I'm here-"  
A bullet rocketed over Darryl's head and he ducked down with a yell.

The shout broke something inside of Zak. His insides writhed, first cold, then burning, white hot. "DARRYL!"

He sprinted out from behind the trees.

Gunshots echoed around him, but none hitting him, somehow. He was running, darting over the tree roots, he was almost there-

And then he was. "Darryl," Zak gasped, grabbing his hand. Darryl grabbed Zak back, pulling him down to the floor. "Zak- what do we do-"  
Zak yanked himself away, pulling Darryl away from the tent. "Run- to the trees-"

Darryl barely managed to get himself up before they were sprinting.  
As Zak ran, he caught a glimpse of the battle scene in front of him. Illumina was full on fighting, his black cloak swirling around him as he slashed with his daggers. Punz was nowhere to be seen.

And Ponk was on the ground, weaponless, a gun pressed against his head. His leg was dripping with a thick red substance.

_Don't think about it, Zak._

Darryl tugged on Zak's arm. "Zak- we have to help them-"

Zak shook his head, gasping, "we can't, Darryl, we have to go-"  
Darryl was nearly crying. "We can't just leave them..."  
But they had no choice. They were horribly outnumbered, and there was nothing they could do. Zak knew it.

They made it to the forest outcrop, a bit away from the trees, and Zak took a break, out of breath.

Someone grabbed onto his shoulder, and Zak whirled around, fists ready-

"Punz?!"

Punz stood, his hair askew, a bleeding gash across his forehead. "Zak, Darryl, take this and go-"  
He held out a leather sack, aged and worn, tiredness strewn over his face. "They'll be here soon-"  
Without a word, Zak grabbed the sack, swinging it across his shoulder and stepping aside. Punz let him, casting his eyes to the ground.

Darryl grabbed Punz's arm. "Thank you, Punz, for everything-"  
"Over here!"  
Zak grabbed Darryl's arm. "Come on, Darryl!"  
Punz nodded to the pair as Darryl reluctantly let himself get guided away. They had to run, again.

Always on the run.

The pair sprinted away from the camp they had called home.


	12. Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert author note here* (yes i know this has been done way too many times leave me alone)

George had absolutely no idea where he was going.

He wasn't running anymore - he had grown too tired for that. Instead, he was walking along the edge of the road, backpack seemingly growing heavier each minute.

His original plan had been to go to the town, and maybe collect supplies, but the second he had reached the outskirts, he had remembered the lockdown. There would be nobody in town, nobody to cover for him, not that they could interact anyways-

It was too dangerous to go to town, way too dangerous, so George had headed away from it instead. He knew there was an airport not too far away, so maybe he could go there...

And do what? Night was rapidly approaching, and he didn't have anywhere to sleep...

Not to mention they would be tracking him from his wristband, and he didn't have a way to remove it - not that he'd want to. That thing was drilled tight into his wrist.

Well, maybe he could steal a glider? They were small, and if he had enough time, he could hack into one, maybe...

But there would certainly be officials there, and the whole town must know the person who made the illegal call was him...

George kept walking. His feet were gradually going numb, and the sun was starting to sink in the sky.

He didn't know why he was still trying. He was outnumbered, easily tracked, and way too slow to make any real progress...

How had they not caught him yet?

George flipped his wristband, taking a look at the time. 7:48 pm. His stomach growled, alerting him to the fact that he hadn't eaten a single proper meal that day. Great.

A small vibration shook the ground beneath him, accompanied by a soft hum. George's stomach flipped and his heart pounded. Without thinking, he sprinted into the bushes next to the road, crouching down to hide himself.

A sleekmobile passed by, headlights flashing.

George couldn't tell if they were after him, but he sure didn't want to find out.

The soft drone faded into the distance, and George shakily stood up, brushing himself off. That was close. Way too close.

A small beep from his backpack just barely made itself heard. Frowning, George slid his pack off of his shoulder and on to the ground. His phone?

He grabbed it out of his bag and stared at the screen, unsure of what he would see.

The message popped up.

_We are tracking you. Turn yourself in, Subject 135, and we will not hurt you. Or, you can spend life in prison. It is your choice._

_You brought this upon yourself._

George almost laughed aloud at the message. It was so cryptic, and yet so threatening. Gradually, his enthusiastic attitude died down, leaving him glum and slightly frightened.

He already knew turning himself in wasn't an option. He was fully committed to trying to escape.

But how could he, when they were tracking his every move?

George zipped up his backpack, slipping his phone into his pocket, and took a good look at the band on his wrist. It was drilled through the bone in the middle, but maybe he could wrench it out...?

Bracing himself, George grabbed the top of the band and yanked. He winced at the pain shooting through his wrist, but pulled harder.

The band didn't budge.

Exhaling, George dropped his hand in defeat. That band wasn't coming off.

If he had more advanced tools, he could attempt to break it, but out in the middle of nowhere, that wasn't really an option.

That left him with one idea: Maybe he could try and hack into it?

But he would need time for a project like that - it could take days to complete.

Glancing off to the side of the road, George made his decision. He crossed the road and entered the thick forest to the left of it. It would provide shelter, at least for a bit.

Grateful he had kept his computer with him, George grabbed it out of his back, settling the heavy device on his lap. He entered the passcode "password10", accessing his desktop.

Cautiously, George opened "Commander", watching as it requested his login info.

What was that workers name again? Darryl?

Carefully, George typed in "Darryl", and then closed his eyes briefly.

For the password, he typed "Eiron_over10-09end-Darryl-rEach".

The computer rejected his login.

Frowning, George tried again, this time adding "-bot" to the end of the passcode.

He was granted access.

George grinned, momentarily proud of his work. It had taken weeks, but he had finally cracked the code to government login.

He had first started investigating the code many months ago, when one of his co-workers had received a promotion and moved on to more... secretive stuff.

He had wanted to know what it was so badly, and the only option was to guess - or figure out - the passcode. George personally thought he was an excellent coder, but for some reason, he had never moved up in his job, only remaining a standard coder for the government.

First, the passcode started with the previous month, in this case, Eiron. Then, _ and either over or under, depending on the time of day - over for anything after 12 pm in Central District, and under for anything before. After that, the current month number - the last month number. Then, either "end" or "start" for the time of year. Obviously, the participant's name - in this case, Darryl. Finally, the standard "-rEach", something he had seen one of the workers type once when they had been allowed to interact a couple of months ago.

The "-bot" meant the account had been terminated, leaving only bot access to be granted for the next 1 and a half weeks, just in case changes needed to be made to the worker's profile. He wasn't sure why the account had been terminated, though.

It didn't even matter - it was the least of his worries.

George's computer took a moment to load up the program, and then displayed lines of code. There was so much, his computer struggled to hold it up, flashing a few times as the battery rapidly drained.

George skimmed through the code, finding the section he was looking for: The bands. At the top of the page, he wrote a simple line of code, telling it to find Citizen 135's band code. Citizen 135, meaning him.

As expected, his band was under termination, meaning it was being actively tracked. George hesitated, and then skipped down to the line of code that told his band to track where he was. Carefully, he selected that portion...

And removed it all together.

Just like that, his band was no longer being tracked.

George exhaled, shutting his computer and trying to process what he had just done.

They couldn't track him now, but it wouldn't last. They would have the microchip update out soon, and he couldn't just remove part of his brain.

Not to mention, Darryl's account would most likely be completely removed by then, especially since he had just tampered with it.

So George packed up his stuff, slung his bag over his shoulders, and walked out onto the road, stopping for a brief moment to listen for Sleekmobiles.

He didn't hear any, so he started walking.

A plan had formulated in his mind. If he could get to the airport, maybe he could fight someone off, take a Glider, and run.

Rather, fly.

It wasn't the perfect plan, but it was something. Either way, he had to get going.

So George kept walking.


	13. Glider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 200 hits wtf also _rest of pre-written chapters coming now_

George had reached the airport.

_This is so stupid._

Those were the only thoughts running through his head as he gazed at the many Gliders spread out before him.

He was in the bushes, and it was nearly pitch-black outside, being the middle of the night. His plan? To somehow grab a Glider and leave. Not the most concrete idea, but it was something.

Taking a deep breath, George stood up firmly, trying his best to act like he knew what he was doing. Securing his bag on his shoulders, he marched towards the large, marble building in front of him.

The glass windows shone his reflection back at him as George swiftly walked past them, to the first entrance, and pushed open the door.

Two guards turned to him almost instantly.

George's blood froze, and he stopped moving, breathing, they surely knew who he was by now-

But the first gave a stiff nod, and both turned back to their previous jobs. Making interactions with unknown people was too risky to do whenever they wanted, and George wasn't the most suspicious looking figure.

George started breathing again, wondering how on earth they hadn't known it was him. Didn't everyone know by now?  
Shaking off the though, George strode through the building, pushing open the sliding glass door at the other side and entering the airport, Gliders towering all around him. His heart began to pound as he looked around hesitantly, and then in one swift motion pulled himself up and into one of the Gliders.

The Glider was essentially a large metal oval, hollow inside, with metal wings, that somehow managed to fly. George exhaled, dropping his bag over his shoulder on the first seat and sitting in the second. He tapped the clear glass screen embedded in the Glider, bringing it to life.

The Glider's message appeared. _Good afternoon. What may I call you?_

Panicking, George typed in "Darryl", but the message _No account by that name_ popped up. Frantic, George typed name after name until the word "Nick" finally worked. With a soft hiss, the engines started up and the Glider was brought to life.

There was a shout, and looking out the window, George could see the first worker, running out and waving his arms desperately. George slammed the door shut, turning to the screen once more and issuing the command "hover 1". The Glider rose one foot in the air and stilled.

A bang sounded. A gunshot. Adrenaline shot through George's lungs, and his fingers flew across the screen. "Forward 100". "Speed 10".

The Glider hesitated, and then shot forwards with enough force that George's back slammed against his chair. He couldn't breath. A panicked scream fought its way out of his mouth as he struggled to operate the machine.

The Glider stilled once more, and George took a breath, gasping, but it didn't last long. The Glider drew back and slammed into the concrete wall.

George yelled as the impact threw him backwards, out of his seat. The sound of scraping metal resounded loudly through the Glider, followed by a horribly loud screech as the Glider broke free of the airport room. It flew forwards, towards the forest, still a single foot above the ground, at a breakneck pace.

Clawing his way up from the floor, George managed to type "Up 10". The glider rose shakily and kept flying, now a rather large distance from the airport.

Twisting with difficulty, George managed to glimpse the airport building. The workers stood, about 5 of them in total, waving their arms frantically. They made no attempt to stop him, however, so George clambered into his seat and began typing furiously.

"Speed 75". "Up 10". "Left 5." With strangely accurate commands, George carefully piloted the Glider towards the left of the airport. He could do this. You can do this, George.

As they flew, George slowly relaxed. He had no idea where he was going, but the flight was smooth, calm, even. Technology certainly was advanced these days.

A thought crossed his mind. How had that been so easy? They hadn't even known who he was - he had just walked right in and taken the Glider. Heck, there were only two guards by the entrance, and they hadn't done a thing to stop him!

Strange...

George shook off the thought, focusing on his flight. It was still pitch black outside, and he was flying fairly low to the ground. _Maybe I should go higher? Or-_

His thoughts were cut off abruptly as a large, flying animal swooped down, its dark wings spread wide, a small hiss heard as it pulled up short in front of the Glider and ascended into the sky.

George leapt backwards, gasping in shock. What the hell was that? A bat? A phantom?

A bat, for sure.

A phantom?

What was that?  
Where was that from?

Frowning, George tried to remember. Phantoms, came out at night...

It was a good thing the Glider could run itself, because George sat there for a good 10 minutes, thinking hard.

A large crackling startled him out of his thoughts, and then a voice riddled with static. George sat, frozen, listening.

_Bring back the Glider. Surrender and you will not die. We are tracking you. Surrender now._

What followed was a series of beeps and clicks George didn't understand in the slightest, but the static cut off and the Glider was silent once more.

The fact that they were tracking him didn't even matter to him, not at the moment. George sat still for another moment.

It slowly hit him.

He had a friend.

Or a coworker, maybe. Someone he had interacted with on a regular basis, before interactions were banned.

He couldn't remember the name.

But they had played... A game? Together?

No, not played, worked on. They had made it?  
A game with things called Phantoms?   
George shook his head, frustrated. His hands worked their way into his pockets, and without him realizing, he took out his phone, typing in the password and finally getting it right.

His hands took him straight to the phone commander, even though he knew he couldn't use it. Even though it was dangerous.

But he was already being tracked... would it really hurt to just use the app?  
This is a bad idea, his head warned.

But George didn't listen.

His fingers flew across the keypad, and as if by magic, a phone number appeared. His memory did the work for him, and a few seconds later, the phone was by his ear.

He waited breathlessly as the phone rang.

Then:  
"Status, citizen, Number, uh- wait, I have it here somewhere-"  
A familiar voice.

One he knew too well. So well, he could hear it in his head.

The name came to him.

"Clay?"


	14. Escape

Darryl was tired, Zak just knew it. He could see it in his face, even though Darryl denied it - he was exhausted.

Zak grabbed Darryl's arm gently. "Wanna take a break?"  
Darryl shook his head frantically. "We can't risk stopping - they'll catch up to us in no time -"  
Zak pulled Darryl down to a fallen branch, seating himself. "It's fine, Darryl. I know the forest better than they do, and we've got a good head start anyways."  
Darryl hesitated, but sat down beside Zak, yawning. Zak tilted his head towards the sky. The stars were visible, and it was gradually getting colder.

They sat in silence for some time. Finally, Darryl turned. "Zak?"  
"Yeah?"  
Darryl hesitated once more. "Do we... have a plan? Like where we're gonna go?"  
Zak frowned slightly. "I was thinking we head into town, or something, and steal a Sleekmobile -"  
Darryl sat up. "Steal?"

Zak winced. "Yeah -"  
Darryl shook his head. "We can't steal, Zak! That's against the rules -"

Zak groaned under his breath. "We already broke the law, remember? I don't think it's gonna matter too much if we steal one Sleekmobile, Darryl."  
Darryl sighed. "Okay... And let me guess, you want me to hack into it, is that right?"

Zak giggled. "Yeah -"

Darryl hit him lightly on the arm. "This is ridiculous!"  
Zak's giggling turned into full blown laughter as he hit Darryl back. "It's not that hard, is it?"  
Darryl sighed. "No, I guess not..."  
Zak grinned. "Perfect. I guess we head towards town, then?"  
Darryl nodded, and Zak stood up, yawning. There wasn't time to rest, however. He knew better than anyone that they had to stay on the move.

Darryl got up too, and they started walking through the forest again, slowly making progress through the dark, whispering trees.

After a while, Zak paused, concentrating. He waited for a second, crouching, and then stood up, a triumphant grin on his face. "The town is this way!"

Darryl frowned, crossing his arms. "How do you know?"  
"I could hear it," Zak insisted.

"Yeah, right. I bet you made that up."  
Zak stared at Darryl. "I did not! Why would I make that up?"

Darryl stare back, a slight grin on his face. "Well, I think its this way," he replied, pointing in the opposite direction.

Zak groaned in exasperation. "It's not that way, Darryl! I can hear it!"

Darryl pouted. "I can't hear anything!"  
"Well I have the better instincts!" Zak argued.

Darryl grinned. "But -"  
They were both interrupted by the loud roar of machinery. Zak tensed as it passed, coming directly from the direction he had pointed to.

It was over quickly, and Zak grinned. "Told you it was that way!"

Darryl grinned back. "Fine, you win... but I knew that all along."  
Zak stared in disbelief, and then reluctant amusement. "I hate you."  
Darryl kept in his laughter as they continued through the forest. Zak was still uneasy. He didn't like the forest at night - it was full of sounds and mystery, and he couldn't see two feet in front of his face, which made it hard to navigate. On top of all that, it was horribly cold. The Upturns had provided them with cloaks, but they had been left behind at the camp when they left.

After stopping for a quick snack of berries Punz had provided them, Zak noticed something.

Forest. More forest. But past that?

Metal.

A building, to be precise.

They had reached the town.

Zak pulled Darryl down, shushing him. "Ok, here's the plan: We rush the S-mob over there, see it? I'll break the door, we get in, and you code it and do whatever to make it work properly. Then, we get the heck out of here. Got it?"  
Darryl nodded, and Zak tensed. "Get ready... go!"  
Darryl stood as Zak sprinted out of the forest, head turned, alert, and made his way to the car in seconds. With Darryl close behind, he grabbed the S-mob door and twisted, expecting it to be locked -

It opened.

Surprise flashed across Zak's face, and then determination. He slid into the far seat, leaving Darryl in front of the screen at the front.

"Get in!"

A shout came out of nowhere. An officer, crystal pinned to his shirt, sprinted from the building across the street, a gun aimed at Darryl. Without thinking, Zak dove out of the car, tackling the guard.

_Bang!_

The gun fired, and Zak shoved the guard to the ground, the gun flying out of his hand. The officer fought back, landing a punch to Zak's side, but Zak grabbed his hand, forcing it to the ground.

Unexpectedly, the guard kicked upwards, hitting Zak's stomach. Zak gasped, flying backwards, the wind knocked out of him as he stumbled back, stunned.

The officer reached for the gun, but Zak was back on his feet again. He reared back and punched, hitting the guard in the shoulder - not too hard, but enough to knock him off course.

The guard grabbed at Zak, but Zak slipped under his arms nimbly and grabbed his legs, shoving him to the side.

The guard managed to land another hit to Zak's arm, but Zak pinned his left arm down, punching him in the head.

The guard wasn't bleeding, thankfully, but he slumped, cleanly knocked out. Zak grabbed the crystal from his uniform, thinking it could come in handy. Tucking it into a pocket, he stood on unsteady legs, using the floor to help him up, eyes scanning the street and adjacent building to ensure there were no more officers.

When he was satisfied, Zak wiped his hand on his pants, getting rid of the blood on his fingers.

Wait a moment.

Blood?  
Fear started in Zak's heart. Had he hurt the officer? He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, only stun them so they could get out.

Dropping to his knees, Zak examined the officer. No, there was no blood there... and Zak wasn't bleeding at all... so where had it come from?  
An icy wave hit Zak. It wasn't him. Wasn't the officer.

Where was Darryl?

"Z- Zak?"

Zak turned, almost not wanting to, almost scared of what he would see.

Darryl was on the ground, cradling his wrist in one hand gently, blood running down his arm.

"Zak?"

There was a bullet next to him.

"Zak?"

They had hurt Darryl.

It couldn't be real.

"Zak..."

It was real.


	15. Call

George's heart was beating at twice its usual rate. The silence on the other side of the line was deafening.

"C-Clay...?"

He heard a soft thump, and then a voice.

"Who the hell are you, and how are you calling me?"

George exhaled shakily. "I'm... I'm George. We used to work together, I think...?"

More silence. Then, the voice on the other side spoke again.

"I don't know who you are, or how you're phoning me right now, but please leave me alone. I can't risk getting caught having an _interaction-_ " he spit out the word - "with somebody I don't even know who claims to have worked with me before. Just leave me alone. Trust me, its better for the both of us."

George heard him move as if to hang up. "No, nonono, don't hang up, please!"  
The line remained silent.

George pressed on. "We were coworkers, remember? We programmed something, before lockdown - wait, no, you're in Florida, aren't you? There's a lockdown in London, and the government is after me, I don't know what to do-"

He was cut off. "Wait - _George?_ "  
George grinned. "Yeah!"

He heard an inhale on the other side of the line. "But we barely worked together! We were there for like three days before interactions were forbidden -"

"And we really hit it off, I guess," George replied, the grin on his face growing.

"So- I mean, why did you call?"  
The smile rapidly disappeared.

"Well... I made a kinda program that allows me to make calls to other people-"  
He was interrupted once again by a large bump of the glider, throwing him forwards violently. "Augh- sorry-"

Clay's voice resounded on the line. "What are you _doing-_ "

George sighed. "Long story. Anyways, I'm on a Glider, and I was hoping I could fly to Florida..."  
He trailed off. Now that the plan was being said, it didn't seem nearly as smart as it had in his head.

Clay, however, was enthusiastic. "And stay with me? Yeah, totally, that would be great-"  
George cut him off. "It's not that easy. I have no idea how to fly this thing, or where I'm going-"  
Clay sighed. "Wait, George, why are you running away?"  
George winced. "Well, the program I made... It didn't really work, and now my Dad's been taken, my Mom is god knows where, and I'm running away, I guess..."

On the other side of the line, Clay frowned. "But can't they track you? How are you meant to get away?"  
George shook his head, then remembered Clay couldn't see him. "No, I programmed it so that I'm not being tracked."  
Clay whistled approvingly. "Pretty neat. Did you say you were on a Glider? Like one of those government airship things?"  
"Yep," George responded. "It's really cool. I'm not sure how to use it, but it's going pretty fast, I think -"  
He was inurupted yet again by a soft crackling, and then a hum.

_Why hello there._

The voice, coming from his built in speakers on the Glider, was both menacing and a bit sardonic.

"Clay? Hold on a second-"  
 _Look behind you._

So George did.

His breath caught in his chest. He couldn't breathe.

Because behind him were a fleet of Gliders, 5 at least, in a triangle formation, following him. And as he watched, they rapidly increased their pace to match and then overcome his.

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod-_

"Clay?"

"Yeah?"  
"I'll call you back - I need to go -"  
Clay frowned. "George? George! When will you be here?"  
George glanced desperately at the advancing Gliders. "I - I don't know, like a day maybe? If I don't get caught - "  
He didn't think they could track that call, not since he had terminated his band service, but he didn't know for sure.

Clay muttered something. "Ok, I'll see you then -"  
George ended the call, dropping the phone to the hard metal floor of the Glider and wincing at the loud thunk. Reaching for the control panel, he typed in "Speed 100".

The Glider increased, but not fast enough. Frantic, George typed "Speed 125".

The Glider was now rattling along at such a pace that George felt a shortness of breath just from looking out the window, but it wasn't enough. "Speed 150".

The Glider displayed the message "Max Speed" as it raced forwards, throwing George back into his seat. Breathlessly, George turned his head to see the Gliders behind him change pace.

They slowed, and then something began to emit from the front of the first Glider. George squinted back, trying to make out its features. It looked like a long rod-

_Oh no._

That was all he had time to think before the laser shot forwards, a red beam of light reaching just to the edge of his Glider, enough to scrape it clean of its shiny metallic glint. George screamed, grabbing the manual control and twisting the wheel as far as he could to the left.

The Glider jolted, and then spiralled downwards, with George holding on for dear life. He levelled out, yanking the wheel up to shoot into the skies once more, catching a glimpse of a red beam shooting past him.

They were a new feature, the lasers. He had heard about them on the news. They could sear through almost any material without issue, and his Glider was no exception.

Desperately, George swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding another laser. His heart rate increased, the soft beeping of his wristband growing as he dove back to the ground, and then up. Whattodowhattodo-

Maybe his Glider had lasers too? But even if it did, he wouldn't know how to use them, much less turn around and aim. No, that idea wasn't good enough.

He couldn't outrun them, because they were the same model, which could only reach a speed of 150.

Unless it could go higher.

The idea hit George. Find the control panel, open the main computer, change the settings to allow for a higher speed.

It was dangerous, but his only option at this point.

Grabbing the manual controller, George set it to autopilot, letting the machine's course level out as he dove behind the seats, searching for the control panel. It had to be here...

There! George grabbed the lid of the metal panel situated on the ground, yanking it up enough to pull it off and access the smooth yet dusty screen of the main control panel, which turned on immediately.

That was one good thing about using Gliders - they didn't have extra security enforcement, so nothing was required to change the settings.

But what was the code?  
George tried to relax, letting his hands take over. He stared at the screen, his fingers typing constantly, with no knowledge of what he was doing. Muscle memory did it for him.

And just like that, he was in.

George let the speed change to 200, which was fairly dangerous, but honestly the only thing that would be enough to outrun a fleet of 150 speed machines. He saved the changes, closed the control panel, and got up-

A screech of metal sounded, and George was thrown across the Glider. Grabbing onto the front seat to steady himself, George yanked himself back up.

They had been hit.

It wasn't too bad, from what he could tell. He just needed to get out, fast.

Running to the front control screen, George held his breath as he typed in "Speed 200". The message "Max Speed" popped up.

The machine shot forwards.

George yelped, grabbing the seat and struggling to hold on. The machine shook underneath him, struggling to hold the speed of 200 - 50 more than it was designed to.

But it held.

George let out a long breath of relief, easing himself into his seat and grabbing the manual control, watching behind him as the fleet faded into the distance. He was ok.

Coding had saved him yet again.

He had escaped.


	16. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't forget to post this yesterday-  
> 269 hits? POG-  
> also FURRY

Zak couldn't breathe.

His boyfriend, best friend, only person he had in this world, had been shot.

By the fucking _government_. The very people Darryl used to work for.

Darryl's eyes seemed so dull. As Zak watched, he slid off his knees, slumping on the ground. His arms dropped to the floor, and his head drooped.

Zak dropped down beside him. He didn't know what to do... what was he supposed to do?

"Darryl? Darryl, talk to me," Zak cried, taking his boyfriend's face in his hand and looking into his eyes. Darryl squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.

"Look at my band, Zak..."

That was right, Darryl still had his band. Because he had worked for the government, and experimented on his band, the tracking technology had already been removed before they came in contact with the forest Upturns.

Zak grabbed Darryl's wrist, then gasped in apology as he winced. Carefully, he rotated Darryl's wrist until he could see the face of the band.

_Injury detected._

Zak stared, and then tapped the band with his free hand. The screen displayed a new message.

_Elevate and apply bandage._

The message repeated itself, pulsing with a white light, until Zak snapped into action. A bandage...

The officer's shirt, maybe?

Zak turned to the officer, who was still unconscious, and grabbed his shirt. Wincing slightly, he yanked the fabric until it tore. A neat white piece of fabric came off in his hand. Panting slightly, Zak turned back to Darryl.

~tw blood...? (you can skip to the "tw over" ahead)~

"Give me your wrist, ok? It's going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine," Zak reassured Darryl, taking his wrist as Darryl offered him it and lifting it carefully. Darryl winced slightly, and Zak frowned. The wound didn't seem to bad - the bullet had grazed the edge of Darryl's wrist. It had gone pretty deep, though, and was still gushing blood, even through Zak's attempts to stench the flow with the cloth.

"Fuck-"

"Language", Darryl muttered, dazed, and Zak almost smiled.

But it wasn't long before the scrap of cloth was soaked through with the thin, red blood. Zak turned back to the guard's shirt, ripping off a larger portion this time before attempting again to wrap Darryl's wrist.

He managed to stench the flow a bit, wrapping the shirt piece tightly around Darryl's wrist and securing it with an elastic band he wore around his wrist. Just one of the many things he carried in case of need.

The wound seemed to have stopped bleeding as much, and Zak made sure not to cover Darryl's band with the cloth. He tapped the band gently and it displayed the message " _Elevate_."

Zak frowned, lifting Darryl's wrist gently and resting it on his arm. The band flashed.

_Bleeding detected. Apply direct pressure._

Zak took a deep breath, and then gently pressed on Darryl's wrist. Darryl gasped in pain, and Zak winced again. It hurt him to see Darryl hurting, but he knew it was for the best.

A few minutes passed, and Darryl's device vibrated.

~tw over~  
_Treatment applied. Rest required._

Zak took his hand off Darryl's wrist, sighing gratefully. It was ok. Darryl was going to be ok.

Darryl smiled shakily, fighting to keep his eyes open. Zak thought for a second, and then made his decision.

"We can't stay here, Darryl, so if you get in the Sleekmobile, I can drive it manually," he suggested. Darryl nodded without complaint.

Zak let Darryl rest his arm on his, and helped him up. Slowly, Darryl eased himself into the car, taking care not to injure his wrist further.

Zak got in after, shutting the mobile's door after a moment of hesitation. He didn't want to just leave the officer lying on the ground, but he didn't really have a choice.

Darryl's eyes were already closing, limp in his seat. Zak took a deep breath. He had only ever driven a S-mob once, and he hadn't exactly... succeeded. In fact, the S-mob had been wrecked. He was probably lucky to be alive.

Forcing that thought out of his head, Zak reached for the controller and pressed the power button.

_Identification required._

Zak cursed under his breath. Identification? How was he meant to get that?  
Unless...

Zak opened the S-mob door once more, dropping to the ground beside the fallen guard. Carefully, he searched the shirt pockets. Nothing, and...

Perfect. An Identification card. Zak grabbed it, hopping back into the S-mob, and tapped the controller again, scanning the id card.

The machine beeped.

_Welcome, Floris._

Floris? What a strange name. Zak shook his head, grabbing the manual controller, which was a type of stick imbedded in the mobile, and pushed.

The vehicle rocketed forwards.

Zak yanked back, and the S-mob stopped abruptly. He took a deep breath, and then hesitantly pushed the controller forwards once more.

The S-mob moved forwards, at a more controlled pace this time, and Zak steadied himself. He pushed slightly to the right, and the mobile responded, taking a sharp turn down a wide road.

Now, where to go? Zak didn't know anyone here, at least not anyone they could trust. It would probably be smarter to just continue on, get out of the town before they were detected, and head away.

So that's what Zak did.

\------------------------------------

The world was blurry.

Floris closed his eyes, opened them, shook his head. Slowly, his vision cleared.

He was on the ground, outside his main office. His head started to pound with a splitting pain.

Floris groaned, and then ran his fingers over his head, wincing as they made contact.

A flash of panic ran through him. He searched his own pockets.

Goddam it. His ID card was gone.

And his crystal too, by the looks of it. Not to mention, his shirt was completely torn up. Those idiot trespassers had broken the law. Probably more than once.

Floris pulled himself up, groaning at the pain that resounded through his body, and looked around. The S-mob was gone, no surprise, and his gun lay on the ground a few feet away.

Floris crossed the ground swiftly, despite his pounding headache, and grabbed the gun. There were no bullets in it. Useless.

So the robbers were gone, with no way to track them. Well, it figures, the way his luck had been going for the past few days.

Floris turned and began to make his way back to his office. This would have to be reported.

This problem never should have happened.

Perhaps he could code something to fix it.


	17. Travel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, 300 hits h o w  
> second, we're back to scheduled updates - every other day, starting today. enjoy, i guess?  
> ty for reading <3

George squinted at the map shown on the Glider dashboard for the seventh time that day.  
He had absolutely no clue where he was going. Somehow, he had managed to program the destination of Orlando, Florida into the machine, but he would have to land it in a fairly open space so that he wouldn't destroy half the Florida landscape when he hit the ground.  
So he was letting the Glider do the work.  
The Glider was handling the speed fairly well. George had decreased it to 175 instead of 200, because he figured at the previous rate, the Glider would break down pretty quickly - and it had to get him all the way to Florida, so that wouldn't exactly be helpful.  
It felt like he had been flying for hours, when in reality, it could have only been minutes. George's wristband was struggling to change timezones as they travelled, and it was constantly vibrating with an error message. It was driving George crazy.  
George tore his gaze from the map on the dashboard and glanced outside the window parallel to his seat. The sun seemed to be rising, if not ever so slightly. That was… a good sign? Maybe. It meant he was getting somewhere, at least.  
As the sun illuminated the sky, George could make out the trees below. They definitely didn't look like trees he would see in London, that was for sure. And he had seen ocean earlier - it seemed they had passed it. Did this mean he was almost there?  
George had Clay's address in his hidden contacts, and he also had a plan. A rather disorganized plan, but a plan all the same.  
Step 1: Land the Glider.  
Step 2: Explore the town, but hidden.  
Step 3: Find Clay's house.  
He was almost on step 1.   
But honestly, where could he land a giant flying vehicle?  
George was shaken from his thoughts by a loud beeping. Wondering if something had gone wrong, and mildly concerned, George turned to the screen on the front of the Glider.  
During his flight, he had already had two problems with the engine, so it woudn't have surprised him if another one had came up. However, that was not the case.  
The screen displayed _Location reached._  
There was a map shown, with a pulsing red dot and the words "Orlando, Florida."  
And with that, the Glider stopped flying and hovered in place.  
Hopping to the edge of the vehicle, George looked out the window once more. All he could see were fields. Open fields, grass, not a tree in sight.  
Plains.  
What were plains?  
Confusion darted through George's mind, but he ignored it, hurrying back to the front of the Glider and pressing "OK" on the screen to stop the beeping. He grabbed the manual control.  
Time to land.  
George really had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he took a deep breath and pulled the stick that controlled the plane slightly down.  
The Glider jolted, angling itself downwards, and George pushed.  
They hurled towards the ground.  
A strangled scream forced itself from George's mouth, and he yanked back. The Glider stopped abruptly.  
George let go of the controller, shaking. They were a lot closer to the ground now, enough that he could see the blades of grass shifting in the breeze.  
But clearly, this landing technique wasn't going to work.  
An idea came to George. Scooting back to the dashboard, he typed "hover 1".  
The Glider slowly began to descend. Holding his breath, George waited as it came to an unsteady stop at exactly 1 foot above the ground.  
George released his breath. Perfect. Now all he had to do was get out-  
The Glider gave way beneath him, crashing the last foot to the ground with a dying groan. The engine stopped completely and the screen went blank.  
George yelped in surprise as he fell against the front of the ship, picking himself back up hastily.   
He wasn't dumb. That was no ordinary failure, even if he had been pushing the Glider to its limits. No, that was the government shutting down his Glider.  
Good thing he hadn't been 100 feet in the air when it happened.  
Taking a deep breath, George forced open the door to his left, grabbed his backpack off of the ship floor and stepped out into the sun.  
It was _sweltering._  
George was wearing a plain black hoodie and sweatpants, which was fairly normal for him. But in the Florida sun?  
It was extremely hot. George yanked off his hoodie, his blue shirt showing underneath, and stuffed into his backpack.  
Now, to walk a thousand miles until he found the town. A road, maybe. A path would be nice.  
Consulting his phone for a compass, George decided to head in the direction he had been flying. That would probably lead him into town.  
He was about a half hour in when he realized this wasn't such a good idea.  
George was tired. He was in the middle of nowhere, had no food, and it was only the beginning of the day - so why was it so _hot?_  
Not to mention, he was fairly dehydrated. He hadn't thought to bring food or water. There had been no time anyways.  
But he kept moving. He told himself he would find civilization eventually.  
And he was right.  
George didn't know how long it had been when he reached a forest.  
That wasn't the exciting part. Behind the forest he could see a house.  
 _Finally._  
George stumbled through the forest, making his way to the house and blearily checking its address.  
No way.  
He checked it again.  
Well, he was pretty damn lucky.  
No, it wasn't Clay's house. At least, he didn't think it was. But it was only a few away from where he had noted Clay's house to be.  
George hadn't expected this, but it was a welcome surprise. He made his way down the street, checking for anyone outside just in case, and avoiding anyone he saw, as they did as well.  
And suddenly, he was there.  
He hadn't ever seen Clay's house, nor had he seen his face. They had only ever worked virtually, and through voice calls or chats.  
Needless to say, he was nervous.  
But he pushed his worries aside and marched up to the front door, raising his hand to knock.  
It took him a good minute to work up the courage, but he did it. He knocked once, twice, three times before dropping his hand and waiting.  
It felt like he waited an eternity, but the door opened.  
A confused expression. Dirty blond hair. Green eyes.  
"Clay?"


	18. Recognize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 400 HITS WHAT  
> ty-

George waited, hesitant, as the man who stood before him stared him down. It took a moment, but recognition flashed across his eyes. "George?"  
George grinned, and in an instant, Clay grabbed him in a hug. George froze, surprised by the action, and remained still as Clay stepped back. "Come in, hurry up," Clay urged, a smile still strong on his face. "There was a patrol this morning, so it's too dangerous for us to be outside."  
George, still shocked from what had just happened, nodded and stepped through the door. He couldn't resist turning to look at Clay, staring at him. He looked nothing like he had sounded when they worked together. His hair was a dirty blond, slightly wavy, constantly falling over his eyes. Were they green? They must have been; nobody could have yellow eyes - it was one of the rules designed at birth.  
Clay's gaze flitted up to George's, and he felt heat rush to his cheeks. Breaking the glance, he stared at his shoes, then realized he was wearing shoes in the house, he should probably take them off, he didn't want to get the house dirty -  
Clay hit him lightly on the arm. "Take off your shoes and come in," he advised lightly, before striding into another room off to the left. His house was pretty, George observed. It had a nice modern theme to it, grey and white were prominent throughout, and it seemed… simple. Nothing like he had thought Clay to be.  
Shaking off the thought, George followed Clay into the room he presumed to be the kitchen. "Have you ate?" Clay asked. George frowned. Had he? Not that he could remember, but then again, ever since he had left his own flat back in London, everything was just kind of a blur. George slowly shook his head.  
A flash of concern darted across Clay's face. "Here, I'll make something," he offered. George smiled slightly. "How do noodles sound? They were yesterday's designated dinner, but I didn't follow along yesterday. Wasn't feeling much like it anyways."  
George didn't ask why, but nodded. "That sounds great."  
He sat on a nearby chair, contemplating his thoughts at the moment. Clay had taken this all in stride, like it was just another day, just another random guy he had worked with a few times showing up at his house and demanding care. George almost felt selfish.  
On the other hand, it wasn't like he had _asked_ for this to happen. He really couldn't have helped it - it was a miracle he had escaped.  
Clay turned from the counter, a steaming bowl in hand. "Here-"  
As he passed it to George, George's left sleeve lifted slightly, exposing his band, locked into his wrist. Clay frowned. "They aren't tracking you, are they George?"  
George took the bowl. "Thanks, and no, I don't think so," he replied. "I overwrote some of the code for my band, so it's not tracking me. They did shut off my Glider, though, so they may know I'm in Florida-"  
Clay sat down. "You mentioned something about a Glider, but I- I'm confused. Start from the beginning."  
George sighed and began to recount his story.  
Somewhere around the middle, Clay stopped him. "Wait, you just told the Glider to go to Florida, and it landed at my house?"  
George grinned, taking a bite of his noodles. "No, Orlando, Florida. It landed in a giant field, probably in the center of Florida, and it wasn't the most graceful landing - I was only about a foot above the ground, but they shut the Glider off and I fell."  
Clay frowned. "Are you okay?"  
George shrugged. "It wasn't a bad fall, so yeah, I'm pretty much fine. Anyways, I was walking through the stupid field for like a full hour or something - but I reached a forest, and on the other side there was a street, and I remembered your address, and I walked until I found what I thought was your house, and I guess it was, because here we are-"  
Clay laughed, a high pitched wheeze that made George stare in astonishment before looking away, trying not to laugh himself. Clay grinned. "That's… that's crazy!"  
George smiled. "Yeah-"  
He coughed, his voice raspy. Probably from screaming so much, then recounting his entire story.  
Clay's face faded to concern. "Want some tea? I have some-"  
George shook his head. "No, that's fine. I don't really like tea."  
"Neither do I," Clay confessed, and the smile appeared back on George's face. Clay held his glance for a moment, and then turned back to the table. You arrived pretty early, I think. It's only 12 pm, so-"  
George nearly choked on his noodles. "Why are you up so _early?_ "  
Clay stared, confused. "Early? I get up at 8 am, what do you mean?"  
George's eyes widened. " _8 am?_ "  
Clay nodded, and then realized what was happening. "Ohhhhhhh," he exclaimed.  
George's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Wha-"  
"Timezones," Clay replied, a grin appearing on his face. "We're like 5 hours apart when you're in London - that is where you live, right?"  
Realization appeared on George's face. "Yeah. Makes sense now."  
Clay was still grinning. "Welcome to EST time, George," he laughed.  
George groaned. "I was so confused!"  
The two laughed about it for some time, George slightly embarrassed, when a small purr and jingle was heard. George stopped, turning in his seat to face the floor.  
A light brown, slightly striped cat with bright eyes appeared, a lime green tag prominent on its collar. George couldn't see the colour, but the cat seemed slightly intimidating. He leaned back in his seat as the cat hissed slightly, fur bristling.  
Clay turned. "Patches, c'mere," he coaxed, motioning to the cat. "This is my cat, Patches. She can be a bit aggressive. Patches, meet George. George, meet Patches." He looked up worriedly. "You're not allergic or anything, are you?"  
George shook his head. "Actually, I had been thinking of getting a cat before I had to leave. She's so cute!"  
Clay grinned. "Yeah, she's pretty great. Watch out, though, she can be a bit angry with strangers she doesn't know."  
George flinched at the word "strangers", but kept on looking at Patches. Patches stared, then crouched, then stood and stalked away.  
George raised his eyebrows. "Iiiiincheresssssting."  
Clay started wheezing. "Inch resting? What do you mean, inch resting?"  
George grinned, confused. "I mean interesting! Incheresting, interesting!"  
Clay was full on dying at this point. "iNcHeReStInG," he mocked. "I've never heard anyone say that before-"  
"It's a common thing!" George insisted, but he too was laughing at this point. Clay's high pitched wheezes filled the kitchen. "Shut up!"  
Clay finally finished laughing, a bright smile on his face. "You're hilarious, George."  
George couldn't keep the smile from his face, but he laughed it off. "You too, Clay."  
The two boys continued talking for a while.


	19. Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Cat is my favourite from the Minecraft music disks, leave me alone-

Zak and Darryl had made it out of the town.  
They were driving down a long, winding road, the town slowly fading into the distance behind them as the sun glared down on them, high in the sky above.  
Darryl had waken up, refusing to go back to sleep despite Zak's constant nagging. The two boys sat silently as the S-mob drove on.  
The final actual street was slowly disappearing from sight, the modern-looking houses fading behind the deep forest they had just drove through. The open fields were the only sight ahead, the tall grass waving slowly in the afternoon breeze.  
It was then that Zak spotted the automobile.  
It was hidden well behind the tall grass, but in the distance, Zak could make out a hunk of metal, the sun glancing off of it.  
A S-mob, maybe? But why in the middle of a random field?   
Curiosity got the better of Zak, as it often did, and he stopped the S-mob, poking Darryl in the side. "Darryl, look!"  
Darryl groaned, turning to the window. "What?"  
"Metal! Over there. Don't you see it?" Zak squinted out the window.  
"No, I don't see anything," Grumbled Darryl.   
Zak was adamant. "There's metal over there, Darryl. And I'm going to go see what it is."  
Darryl grabbed Zak's arm. "No, Zak! We have to keep going, we only have a small head start, what if they catch up-"  
Zak opened the door of the S-mob, adrenaline pulsing through his veins. "Adventure, Darryl, adventure!" he yelled, and with that, leapt out of the S-mob, landed in a crouch, and started sprinting across the fields.  
"Zak! Wait!" Darryl struggled out of the S-mob, dropping to the ground much less gracefully than Zak had, and landed with a thump. "Wait!" He ran after Zak.  
Zak was laughing, the wind ruffling through his hair, the warm Florida air rustling the grass around him. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this free.  
It ended abruptly as he began to approach the hunk of metal. It looked like a metal sphere… no, oval type thing, with… wings? Was it meant to fly?  
Cautiously, Zak stopped and examined the curious object. As he did, Darryl caught up. "Zak! What are you doing, you muffinhead? We could get caught!"  
He slowed as he approached the metal mobile. "Woooaaahhh. What _is_ that?"  
Zak shook his head. "I don't even know, it's just… here!" He took a step as if to go towards it, and Darryl grabbed him by the arm, worry in his eyes. "Woah woah woah, wait a second. What if someone's there?"  
Zak thought for a second, and then shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Look, it's damaged. Who would stay in a damaged… whatever that is?"  
Darryl frowned, and it clicked. "A Glider!"  
Zak stared. "A _what?_ "  
"A Glider! Like an S-mob, designed by the government, but to fly!" Darryl's eyes widened. "Do you think they crashed it? By accident?"  
"Nope. Look, its not damaged to heavily. More likely that the pilot just didn't know what they were doing," Zak replied.   
Darryl looked. It was true - the Glider was damaged at the bottom, but it clearly hadn't fallen too far, or it would be completely destroyed.  
Zak grinned. "Let's go explore it!"  
Darryl frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea…"  
It was Zak who won in the end, and the boys headed over to the ship. It proved to be abandoned, at least for the most part - there was nothing in it, just a broken control panel, some dents… the Glider was a wreck, to say the least.  
At last, Zak and Darryl stepped out of the Glider. "Well, that was disappointing," remarked Zak. Darryl sighed. "What did you expect?"  
"I don't know, something exciting?" Zak retorted, turning away from the ship and beginning to walk back towards their S-mob.  
It was then that he heard the purr.  
Zak froze, eyes widening. He turned to see if Darryl had heard, and he, too, was standing in astonishment.   
"You heard that too, right?"  
Zak nodded, and looked through the grass. A small, light brown cat was padding slowly through the shrubbery, tail held high, bright yellow eyes unwavering. As it approached, it slowed and hissed at Zak. Zak's eyebrows rose and he took a step back.  
Darryl, on the other hand, giggled and stepped forwards. "A cat!"  
Something about the way he said it seemed… strange. It reminded him of… a song?  
Didn't matter. "State the obvious, Darryl," Zak grumbled, staring at the cat. The cat seemed to take to Darryl, however - it cuddled up to his leg and let out a content purr. Darryl giggled.  
Zak sighed. "Do you think it's, like, lost?"  
"Probably," Darryl replied. He knelt before the cat, reaching for its collar. "Look, it has a tag!"  
Darryl was right. Around the cat's black collar was a lime green tag with a small inscription on it.  
Darryl studied the tag. "Its name is Patches, and it…" His eyes lit up. "It lives really close! Like, in one of the houses we just passed, I think."  
Zak groaned. "We're not going back, Darryl."  
Darryl pouted. "Why not? You're the one who said you wanted adventure!"  
"Because its not safe," Zak replied. "And besides, its the cat's own fault. It shouldn't have left in the first place."  
Darryl sighed. "Can't we just return it? We don't even need to have an interaction, we can, like, just drop it in the yard, can't we?"  
Zak looked down grudgingly. "I… I guess so," he replied. Darryl grinned. "Yes!"  
Zak couldn't resist his boyfriend, not for something as cute as that cat - although it did seem a bit aggressive, at least around him. Maybe that was just his own nature.  
So Zak turned back towards the S-mob. "How do we bring it back?"  
Darryl considered. "I could carry it?"  
And that's what they ended up doing. Darryl picked up the cat, and keeping a long distance from Zak, due to the never - ending hisses being thrown his way, they made their way back to the S-mob. Zak opened the door when they got there, and Darryl deposited the cat in the back seat, taking his place in the front.   
Zak started up the S-mob, and the cat growled, clearly frightened. Zak rolled his eyes, but Darryl took the cat, stroking it gently and whispering to it.   
Carefully, Zak turned the S-mob around and began to drive backwards. Towards the town.  
Why was he doing this again?


	20. Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 700 hits wtf maybe its not a lot but it _sure is to me so thank you everyone-_

The house was standing before them.  
Zak was pacing back and forth in front of their S-mob, while Darryl tugged on his sleeve impatiently. "Come on, Zak!"  
Zak frowned, clearly having second thoughts. "Are you sure about this…"  
Darryl pouted. "We just have to open the door, drop the cat in, and get out! How hard can it be?"  
It sounded like a pretty sketchy plan to Zak, but the cat was pretty cute… even if it hated him. He already had a long scratch up his arm that he had… erm… _acquired_ during the drive to the cat's house.  
Zak sighed in defeat. "Fine. Let's go," he replied, striding up to the door and trying it cautiously.  
It, of course, was locked.  
Zak frowned again. He hadn't anticipated this part of the plan. What to do now?  
Well, there were three options. Firstly, he could ditch the cat, get back in the S-mob, and leave… Or he could break down the door… nah.  
That left him with the last option: knock on the door and risk getting caught having an interaction with a random person because their stupid cat had escaped.  
Zak sighed and knocked.  
There was no answer.  
Zak waited, then knocked harder. Behind him, Darryl scooped up the cat in his arms and walked to the front. They waited.  
And waited.  
\-------------------  
A knock echoed through the house.  
Clay, who had been immersed in a conversation with George, stood instantly, alert.  
George had tensed up.  
Another knock.  
George stood, but Clay grabbed his arm. "Stay here. I'll handle this."  
His hand fiddled with his pocket, George didn't know why, but he didn't protest as Clay crept towards the door. Fear had began to trickle into his mind.  
What if it was the government?  
What if they were coming for him?  
He watched shakily as Clay slowly turned the knob to the front door…  
And wrenched it open.  
\-------------------  
Zak was met face to face with another guy. He had green eyes, dirty blond hair, freckles…  
None of which Zak saw before he was attacked.  
The man leapt at Zak with a yell, tackling him to the ground in an attempt to pin him down. Darryl, from behind, let out a startled yell and stepped backwards. The cat leapt out of his arms and went streaking across the yard.  
Zak's instincts kicked in, and he relaxed his muscles, then tensed, using his legs to pull himself under the larger man and shove him to the ground. The guy yelled in protest, fighting against his capturer.  
"CLAY!"  
Zak was thrown forwards violently by another man. They had another one?! Twisting, he managed to catch a glimpse of dark brown hair and an enraged expression as he was thrown to the ground.  
"Mmph!" Zak drew back and lashed out, kicking the smaller boy in the knee. He let go with a howl, grabbing his knee and hopping backwards.  
Zak leapt to his feet, punching the first guy in the stomach as he attempted to get up, and jumping on top of him, pinning him to the ground. The second man didn't even try to fight, he just stumbled backwards with a small yell as Zak rose to face him, a victorious look on his face.  
\-------------------  
George was panicking.  
Who the hell was this - this _idiot_ who had just attacked Clay? Were they from the government?  
He could see a S-mob parked rather sloppily by the entrance to Clay's house, but neither of the men who had approached wore government crystals.  
So who were they?  
And why were they so _good?_  
George flung his hands up, his back hitting the smooth concrete wall behind him as he stumbled backwards. What the hell was happening-  
\-------------------  
Clay was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him.  
Why was that dude so good?  
He took the opportunity to examine the two strangers standing over him. One, the one who had attacked him when he tried to fight, had dark brown hair, rather spiky, and brown eyes. His build was small. Clay wouldn't have expected him to be so powerful.  
The other guy, standing near the back with a horrified look on his face, had lighter brown hair and green eyes. He was staring, his mouth agape, as if he couldn't believe what was happening.  
Clay turned his attention back to the first, ignoring George, who was babbling nonsense off to the side, and watched as he opened his mouth. He braced himself for some yelling, maybe some more fighting-  
"We found your cat!"  
\-------------------  
"We found your cat!" Zak declared, grinning down at the blond beneath him. The brunette to the side made a noise that sounded like a cat being strangled.  
Zak ignored him and continued. "They were in the field not far from here, and we heard them, so we decided to pick them up and take them back home. Now, if you don't mind, we have to go before the government decides to show up out of nowhere-"  
He was cut off by the brunette, who had apparently decided to use his mouth for something other than useless gargling. "But then why did you attack him?" He gestured to the blond, who was cautiously getting up.  
Zak stared. "I didn't attack him, he attacked me!"  
The brunette turned to the blond, who looked rather sheepish. "I thought you were from the government," he admitted.  
Darryl spoke up. "I thought _you were from the government!_ "  
"I am!" The brunette replied. He frowned. "Well, not anymore, I guess…"  
Zak shook his head, confusion threatening to take over his head. "Wait, so you- wait-"  
The brunette laughed - _why did he sound like a girl_ \- "I worked for the government, it's not hard to understand!"  
Zak stared. "Why did you quit?"  
"I didn't quit, I had to run! I created this program thing, and I got caught, and so I had to hack my band using Darryl-"  
At the mention of his name, Darryl turned. "Yeah?"  
The brunette stopped short. "What?"  
Darryl frowned. "You said my name!"  
"No, I didn't," the brunette insisted.  
"You said Darryl! I heard you!"  
"Ahem!" the attention was turned to the blond, who was now brushing himself off. "I think we'd better go inside. We don't want to get caught, and it seems…"  
He looked around with a sigh. "It seems we have a lot to discuss."  
Zak didn't protest.


	21. Discuss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 800 hits :0 thank you again everyone -  
> :)

It had been a good 20 minutes and Zak was still confused.  
George was still attempting to explain his side of the story, while Darryl seemed annoyed at the fact that George had used his name to break the government rules. Clay, on the other hand, was interrupting every five seconds to offer his opinion on the matter.  
Zak's head hurt.  
Darryl, sitting next to Zak, curiously asked "Wait, so George, you went to visit Clay because you're his boyfriend?"   
George choked on his water, spitting it everywhere and coughing violently. From across the table, Clay began to wheeze.  
Darryl stared. "What?"  
Clay seemed to be dying, gasping with laughter. George, in between coughs, managed to get out a very loud "NO!"  
Zak held back his laughter. Though, he had to admit, George did look kind of cute next to Clay…  
"So how do you know each other?" Darryl interrogated. Clay had finally collected himself, and managed to stop laughing, while George was gasping for breath, setting his now empty glass next to the sink behind him.  
"George and I used to work together for the government," Clay explained, sneaking a glance at George, whose face was now bright red.  
\-------------------  
George had never felt more embarrassed in his entire life.  
He nodded, mutually agreeing with Clay, but lost in his own thoughts. Why the hell had that idiot Darryl thought he and Clay were _boyfriends-_  
He didn't like Clay! He barely even knew him!  
Unless...  
It didn't matter. George pushed the intrusive thoughts out of his head and turned back to the conversation.  
\-------------------  
"...and then Clay just leaps out and fucking attacks me!" Zak exclaimed.  
" _Language!_ "  
All heads turned to Darryl, who sat with a stubborn look on his face. "Zak said a naughty word."  
There was silence, and then Clay began to wheeze, bending over, unable to contain himself. His laughter was contagious - George caught on, his high pitched voice filling the kitchen.   
Zak rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Ignore them, Darryl. I'll always love you."  
The laughter stopped abruptly. Clay, cautious, asked "Are you two… together?"  
Zak's stomach turned over, fear pounding into his chest. He hadn't met many people who were… homophobic, but…  
Darryl took the matter into his own hands, replying simply with "yes."  
Zak held his breath.  
Clay's face broke into a grin. " _Epic._ "  
George was smiling too, and Zak allowed himself to relax, his fingers intertwining with Darryl's under the table. He really did love Darryl - they had been together for just over a year, and he was glad to say it had been one of the best years of his life.  
Well… until now.  
George's face suddenly turned serious. "Guys, where's the cat?"  
"Oh, Patches? I wouldn't worry. She wanders a lot, but always comes home by sunset," Clay replied, a nonchalant look on his face.  
George couldn't help but stare.  
Zak broke the silence. "It… _she_ just wanders around? All day?"  
Clay nodded. "Yep."  
"But what if she gets lost?" Asked Darryl, concern evident on his face.  
Clay grinned. "She's been doing it for years without an issue. I think she's ok."  
Zak frowned. "So we didn't have to return her?"  
"Nope."  
Zak groaned. They could have saved so much time - they could have been in another town by now, at least -  
 _Oh!_  
Zak leapt to his feet, eyes scanning the table. "Are any of you being tracked?"  
Clay stared. "Tracked?"  
George shook his head. "I'm not, I coded it out of my band specifically a few days ago."   
"Mine doesn't have tracking tech right now, and our brain chips don't work outside of a certain radius around our house," Darryl replied.  
Clay looked uncertain. "I mean I guess I'm being tracked… I haven't done anything differently, at least not that I know of…"  
George frowned. "I can code it out, I just need a name and a pc - I think mine is dead."  
Darryl looked up. "Like, a government name?"  
"Yep," George replied.  
"Oh, we have one!" Darryl said enthusiastically. "Floris, he's the one who shot me!"  
George gaped, then forced his mouth shut. "I- Wonderful. I'll look into that. Clay, do you have a pc I could use?"  
Clay nodded. "Zak, are you being tracked?"  
Zak shook his head. "I…"  
Deciding it would be easier just to show them, he held out his arm, rolling up his sleeve to expose the bandages wrapped around his arm. Darryl inhaled sharply.  
"Did the Upturns do that?"  
Zak nodded. "It was for a good purpose, though. I don't think they know how to code, so this was the only way they could stop me from being tracked."  
Darryl looked concerned. "When did you last change the bandages?"  
Zak shook his head. "I don't think I have since they were put on…"  
Darryl frowned. "I should take a look at that." He had training in medical services as well as standard coding.  
Zak nodded, taking his seat once more. "So we're all good, except for Clay? No way for them to find us?  
George nodded confidently.   
But not far from them, another was planning.

Floris held out his standard band, which he had briefly released from his wrist in order to utilize. Holding his breath, he started his code for the fifty-fourth time that day.  
The wristband flashed, and then began to beep softly. It whirred. Floris waited.  
And the wristband stopped.  
Floris let out a sigh. Of course it didn't work.  
He went back to the code, tweaking a few things. It was a good 10 minutes before he decided he was ready to test it again. He started the code.  
Like before, the wristband flashed, beeped, whirred…  
And then restarted.   
Floris grinned, watching it reactivate. Now, based on the fact that his registered name was "Floris604", the band would supposedly track Floris604, who was him, lock its settings, and be unable to function at all other than displaying his location, unless the direct code Floris was running was changed.  
The delay was suspenseful, but the band flashed once more, and then displayed…  
His location.  
"Yes!" Floris pumped his arm in the air, grinning. It worked! The tracker had successfully identified "Floris's" location, and couldn't be changed unless the code was deactivated. Perfect.  
Stepping back to his computer, Floris deactivated the code, and navigated to the top, changing a certain keyword.  
The word was "Floris604".  
He changed it to "George135".


	22. The Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1K HITS?! I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD GET HERE  
> Thank you soooo much everyone who even clicked on this story ily-  
> <3

It was almost bedtime, at least that was what Clay had said. George was used to going to bed sometime in the early morning, 5-6 am usually, but for Clay, bedtime was apparently 11 pm. Rather strange, at least in George's opinion.  
The sun had long since set, and in George's room, the one window provided displayed only darkness. George wished there was a curtain, at least… he had never quite liked the dark.  
Darryl and Zak were also staying over at Clay's house, due to his opinion that it wouldn't be safe for them to leave, at least not until the morning. George didn't mind.   
From downstairs, he heard a loud clatter, and then an "OW!", presumably from Darryl. George grinned as Zak replied "Sorry!", his tone sardonic in a way George found amusing.  
They really were the perfect pair, weren't they?  
Would George ever find someone like that? Someone who fit to him as much as he fit to them?  
George pushed away the thoughts, not for the first time, and instead concentrated on his surroundings. Clay's house was unnaturally big, meaning each of them had their own bedrooms, which was nice. Clay had probably lived with his family, before interactions became forbidden.   
His family.  
George's thoughts stiffened as he remembered the events of the past week. The forbidden phone calls. The interactions.  
His Dad being taken.  
His Mother being who knows where.  
And him being able to do absolutely nothing about it.  
George closed his eyes, tilting his head back as guilt welled up in his stomach. There he was, at a friends house with some strangers, while his entire family was in danger.  
And he couldn't do anything.  
He didn't want to cry. Didn't want to seem weak.  
So he held it back. He refused to think about it.  
A knock at the door startled him from his daze. George forced his eyes open and called, "come in!" His voice seemed cheery, unnaturally so.  
It scared him.  
The door opened, and Clay stepped in. "Hey, just wanted to make sure you're doing okay," he said, his face neutral but his eyes sparkling.  
George smiled slightly. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied, dropping down on his neatly made bed.   
_Now that you're here, at least.  
What the hell, George?!_  
Clay walked over to the bed. "Mind if I…?"  
George shook his head, and Clay plopped down beside him with a sigh. "Long day, huh?"  
"Long month," George countered, staring at the floor.  
Clay sighed in agreement. "How're you doing?"  
George looked away. "Fine. You?"  
Clay frowned, unconvinced. "You don't sound fine…"  
"It's nothing. Drop it," George snapped. Clay flinched in shock, looking away. He was silent.  
George felt bad almost instantly. "I didn't mean that, Clay," he said quietly.  
Clay nodded. "It's fine."  
"No, it's not," George replied. "I'm sorry, I just…" he trailed off.   
Clay, concerned, turned to him, taking his hand gently. "Hey, what's up?"  
George's face heated up at Clay's touch, but he shook his head. "Nothing..."  
Clay kept his gaze steady. "You can talk to me, you know, George," he reminded him, tapping his shoulder gently.  
George sighed. "It's just… it's my parents," he confessed. "My Dad called me using that program, you know the one I told you about?" Clay nodded, and George continued: "The call was being tracked, but I didn't know. The government showed up at his door in seconds. They took him away, and he was talking about how they had taken my Mom away too, and I don't know where she is, or if she's ok, or if-"  
He stopped, tears trickling down his face, and Clay grabbed his hand. "George, hey, it's ok…"  
George couldn't stop the tears. "I- I left them behind, Clay! I left them behind…"  
Clay stared into George's eyes. "You couldn't have done anything, George. It wasn't your choice to run. You're lucky you escaped with your life."  
George hiccuped. "I- I know, I just feel like it's all my fault… If I hadn't made the program, none of this would have happened…"  
"That's not true," Clay said firmly. "The government can't just expect everyone to follow the rules, and sometimes it's good to be a trendsetter, George. The code you made was incredible either way." He paused. "I'm with you, and I'll support you, ok?"  
George seemed to be calming down, his hands fidgeting with the blanket underneath him. "Yeah…"  
The pair sat in silence for some time. Finally, Clay spoke.  
"Do you know something, George, I don't even know my parents," he said softly, staring at the floor. George looked up.  
"We had a happy family. We lived here, me, my younger sister, my mom and my dad. But you know the government tests?"  
George nodded, a sinking sensation in his stomach.  
Clay paused, and it was George's turn to comfort him. "Clay, if you don't want to talk about it, it's ok," he said gently.  
Clay shook his head. "No, I want to say it." He paused again, then continued. "My mom… she was chosen, for testing…" He was barely holding back tears. "I still remember the night. She was screaming, crying, and my dad was crying too…" His voice became choked. "He left the next day, my dad. Never saw him again. And my mom…" The tears were falling, but Clay didn't care. "She… didn't make it through the testing…"  
"I'm so sorry," George whispered, not knowing what else to say. Clay shook his head. "I was only 6 years old, I didn't know anything… the government took me in, but they couldn't find me a home. I stayed in a children's Layout Centre until I was 12, and then they found me a position as coder and left me on my own. I don't know where my sister went." His voice was barely a whisper.  
George took his hand. He didn't speak, but that was enough. The two boys sat in silence for some time.  
As they sat, George's thoughts ran wild. So Clay had never known his family. That must have been…   
Hard.  
To say the least.  
And a Layout Centre? George didn't know much about them, but from what he'd heard, they weren't the best place to grow up.  
Not that it mattered. It seemed like Clay had turned out pretty good.  
 _Good looking, at least.  
What the hell! Stop, George!_  
At last, Clay stood. "It's getting late. I should go," he said curtly, refusing to look at George in the eye.  
George nodded slowly, looking up and forcing eye contact. "Ok."  
Clay walked to the door before hesitantly looking back. "And George, I'm here if you need to talk, ok?"  
George smiled in response. "Same here. Goodnight, Clay."  
"Night."


	23. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorrrryyyyyyyy for no chapter yesterday - it was n o t a pog day and i wasnt feeling the best...  
> also i dont know if you can even post announcements on ao3 so i couldnt say anything in advance-  
> sorry again and heres the new chapter, enjoy!

George waltzed into the kitchen. "Why hello there, Clay!"  
Clay looked up, a slightly confused look on his face. It was nearly 8:30 in the morning, and as always, Clay had made it a priority to get himself up at 8. He hadn't expected George to get up so early - especially since he had just travelled halfway across the world. Didn't this man ever get tired?  
Nevertheless, Clay flashed him a bright smile. "How are you this morning, _sweetie?_ "   
George stopped dead, staring at Clay, his mouth moving but no words coming out. Finally, he sputtered "CLAY!"  
Clay wheezed, confident that the look on George's face would never escape his memory. George glared at him, but Clay could detect a hint of a smile in his eyes.  
"You're such an idiot," George muttered, taking a seat at the table as Clay hastily collected himself. "How was your night?"  
George shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I dunno, I had a weird dream…"  
He kept going, but Clay paused, the eggs he was making left forgotten on the stove. His head began to spin. Something George had said… it just didn't sit right.   
What was it?  
"George, say that again?" Clay requested, causing George to pause and look up. "Huh?   
"What you said," Clay persisted. "I wasn't listening."  
George rolled his eyes, but repeated himself: "I had a weird dream. It was like…"  
Again, Clay let him continue, but closed his eyes, willing himself to recount what George had said.   
A weird dream.  
 _Dream._  
It was strange, because that wasn't an unusual word to say - but combined with George's strong accent, it made it seem…  
Different.  
Off putting.  
That's when he had the idea. Or, rather, the memory. It was strange, and probably going to be awkward, but…  
"George?"  
George paused yet again, annoyance on his face. "Are you even listening?"  
"Yeah, yeah, just-" Clay paused. "Could you…"  
Oh god no, this was stupid-  
"Could you scream?"  
George stared. "I'm sorry?"  
Clay flushed, that hadn't gone how he had wanted - but he continued, determined to get through to George. "Scream! Like, the whole sentence."  
George had been having a strange week, but this topped it all - some guy he had barely met wanted him to _scream?_ Why the hell did he want him to _scream_?  
"What sentence?" George asked nervously.  
Dream hesitated. "I had a weird dream. Just… scream it, please?"  
George considered. Well…  
If he refused, it would be awkward, and Clay would hate him. Maybe not hate hate him, but not like him. And George definitely wanted Clay to like him.  
Nope, he wasn't even going to reconsider what he just thought. Not at all.  
But if he accepted, it would still be awkward, and just plain weird. This whole thing was sketchy, anyways.  
But… would Clay like him?   
George raised his eyebrows. "Ok, here goes…"  
He opened his mouth and howled "I HAD A WEIRD DREEEEEEAAAAMMMM!!!!"  
It took Clay. Took him so far back the world spun around him and he dove into a realm of memories.  
It was George, all George, but it didn't look like him. It was a block character, blue shirt and pants, red rectangle on his top…   
And were those… clout goggles?  
George's voice was echoing through the universe, bouncing around the stratosphere. "Dreeeeeeeam. Dreeeeeeeeeeeam. dreeeEEEEEEEAAAAAAMMMMM!!"  
Clay yelped, throwing himself forwards, the world reappearing before him as he slammed into the counter in front of him, hitting his arm hard enough to bruise. "OW!"  
George shrieked at the noise, but Clay was gone again, the world disappearing. The pain in his arm morphed into a wound, a stark red image against his lime green skin.  
Wait… lime green?  
Somehow, Clay managed to change his perspective. He was green, a bright lime colour with a digital smiling mask on his front. Right behind him was…  
George?!  
Yes, George, wielding a stone axe. He swung, and Clay felt the blow, knocking him forwards as his breath disappeared promptly.   
"OH DREEEEEAAAM!!!!!"  
Clay screamed, sprinting up a grass hill with George right behind him. He was terrified, but exhilarated at the same time.   
What on earth _was_ this?  
He almost tripped on the edge of what seemed to be a grass block, switching back to his main perspective as he hurtled across the plains. He heard George behind him. No, no, no-  
"DREAM!!!"  
And the vision ended. Clay screamed, his eyes clearing as he looked around, breathing heavily as if the chase had happened in real life.  
George was next to him, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. "Clay? Clay!"  
Clay couldn't talk. He tried and failed to catch his breath, gasping desperately for air as George waited, a concerned expression on his face.  
"Clay, talk to me, please! Are you okay?"  
Clay finally caught his breath, choking out "What happened?"  
"Classic line," George remarked, seemingly more at ease now that Clay had spoken. Clay hit him on the arm. "Oh, shut up," he groaned.  
George grinned. "You fell over! It was kind of epic, honestly. You just stook there, started shaking, and…"  
A door from above slammed open. "What the hell is going on?!" Zak yelled from above, clad in bright blue pajamas.  
Clay stared, then started to laugh. He couldn't help it - this was waaaaay to confusing for him to handle.   
And what was Zak even wearing? Out of all the clothes Clay had offered, _that_ was what he had chosen?  
It made literally no sense. Nothing made any sense.  
"Nothing, we're fine!" George yelled up. Zak gave him a skeptical look, but turned around and marched back to his room.  
George held back his own laughter, and turned back to Clay. "Clay- what _happened?_ "  
Clay shook his head.   
"Call me Dream."


	24. Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fact: The document I write this story in has 69 pages-

George couldn't stop staring.  
Call me Dream. That was what Clay had just said.  
What the hell?  
Clay - or, rather, Dream - was just sitting there, on the kitchen floor, a triumphant grin on his face. The kitchen was gradually filling with the smell of burning eggs.  
George grabbed his arm. "Clay? What the- are you okay?"  
Clay's grin faded away, and he nodded. "Yeah- George, listen: I had a vision, like this thing, it was really weird-"  
George stared. "A vision? What-"  
"Yeah, a vision! I was like green, lime green, and everything was all… blocky, somehow, and you were there! You were chasing me, and screaming _DREAAAAM-_ " he yelled it, and George flinched. "And your accent was like so much, and oh my god, George, I'm Dream, we made it together, we made it together!" He was just babbling at this point; George couldn't understand a thing he was saying.  
"Woah woah woah, slow down," George broke in. "You were green? Blocks? I don't understand-"  
Dream took a deep breath. "Yeah! It was like some kind of simulation. I was in a large field, with a green hill, and everything was just… made of, like, blocks! It was amazing! And we were playing some sort of game: You were chasing me, and it was kind of scary, but really fun - and I changed perspective and I could see myself! I was lime green and had a smiley face on my front!"  
George, open-mouthed, struggled to perceive what he was hearing. After a few moments, he responded.  
"What did I look like?"  
Dream raised an eyebrow. "You were wearing blue pants and a light blue shirt with a red rectangle on it, and you had like clout goggles on," he replied.  
George grinned. "Clout goggles? I have a pair at home that I like, that's epic!"  
Dream grinned. "You didn't let me finish - you hit me with an axe or something, and it did _hearts-_ " he didn't know where the reference was from, but he continued: "I was running, you were right behind me, and-" he shook his head. "I just snapped out of it, I guess…"  
George, too, was grinning. "That's… amazing!" The grin slid off his face. "Wait, you said we made it together? Made _what_ together?"  
Dream frowned in concentration. "The game, I think. I don't know what it's called, but I remember programming the blocks in…" he paused, then continued. "Yeah, we worked on it together, for the government! We made all those animal things, the… the mobs, remember? The really cool ones like the glow squid…"  
The second Dream mentioned the glow squid, George's memory raced forwards. Yeah, he remembered that! Dream _loved_ the glow squid. It was one of his favourite mobs. George thought it was dumb. The glow squid, wandering traders, and phantoms were the worst mob by far-  
Wait… phantoms? That was where it was from! George grinned. "Yeah! Yeah, I remember making that! The phantoms, remember?"   
Dream chuckled. "God, those were so stupid…"  
George's memory was accelerating at the speed of light. "The mineshafts, outposts, the- the _Nether!_ The End! The Ender dragon, beating the game-"   
He felt like he could go on forever, but he stopped, the smile bright on his face. "We made the whole thing together! I remember that…" He trailed off. "I remember someone else, though…"  
Dream furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"  
"Wasn't there someone who, like, looked over the coding?" George persisted. He could remember a voice, someone working on it with them, looking over their work briefly. A flash of brown hair, a crackling sound, a burning smell - although that may have just been the eggs, George didn't quite know.   
Dream frowned. "P… Pandas?"  
George stared. "I'm sorry?"  
"Pandas! Wasn't that their name?" Dream replied.  
George shook his head. "No, I don't think so… wasn't it like Sadnap or something? Pandas backwards?"  
"Maybe Snapmap," Dream suggested thoughtfully.  
George grinned. "This is so _cool!_ "  
Dream shook his head. "But George…"  
He paused. "Why didn't we know about it? Why… why couldn't we remember?"  
George's stomach turned over. "I don't know…"  
Come to think of it, why had they made the game in the first place? It didn't seem much like Dream's personality to just decide out of nowhere to make a game, much less one for the government. And George had participated in it… it must have been a pretty advanced project, but he was one of the lower coders. Had he been demoted or something?  
He voiced these concerns to Dream, and then asked hesitantly "So you want me to call you… Dream?"  
Dream nodded. "It's way more natural for me. It was my in-game name, I think, and I just… I dunno, I prefer you calling me Dream than _Clay._ " He winced slightly at the mention of his real name.  
George nodded. "What about me? Who was I in-game?"  
Dream shrugged. I just remember calling you George…" He frowned. "Wait, no… GeorgeNotFind? Was that it?"  
George shook his head. "GeorgeNotFound, I think."  
Dream grinned. "But you're fine with just George?"  
George nodded, and Dream sighed. "This is insane… how did this even happen?"   
George shook his head, and Dream understood. There was too much information to know what was going on, in all honesty, and Dream couldn't process a single ounce of it without his brain wanting to die.  
George's wristband provided a slight distraction as it vibrated loudly. George looked down, and Dream watched as his face turned from deep thought to slight confusion, and then…  
Horror. Fear. George's face contorted as he read his band. A second later, he stood up.   
"I need a pc."  
That was all he said. Dream got up as well, heart beating so loudly he was sure George could hear it.   
"What's wrong?"  
"They're onto us. My band is locked on tracking, and it's not my code. I disabled the tracking… this is a new function," George replied, still staring at his band. He tilted it towards Dream, and Dream could make out the words _Tracking George135. Orlando, Florida._  
That was where they were.  
Dream's blood turned to ice.   
All George could think was _not again…_  
Dream grabbed his arm. "You can use the pc you used to reprogram my location. Come on." When George didn't respond, he hit him lightly across the arm. "George!"  
George snapped out of his daze, nodding. "Got it."  
The two hurried up the stairs.  
From the top, Zak watched, a scared look on his face.  
 _Please, don't let us have to run again._


	25. Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what day it is?! Shameless self-plug day, courtesy of my own imagination! Check out my wp, idk why you would but check it out [here right here click here yes thats right here](https://www.wattpad.com/user/LostOurWings)  
> oh my g o d that link took forever to put in-  
> Ty for reading <3

Zak kept his glance on George as both he and Clay… no, _Dream_ rushed up the stairs and into Dream's bedroom.  
That sounded wrong.  
Zak punched himself internally, turning back to his own room. His thoughts were bugging him. He hadn't been… _eavesdropping_ , per say, only… listening in on the conversation.  
He remembered this game. At least, he thought he did. Zak stood in silence for another second, and then turned and hesitantly knocked on Darryl's door.  
"Darryl?"  
There was a pause, and then the door opened. Darryl beamed. "Hi, Zak!"  
He was too adorable. Zak felt his face light up with a grin, his worries sliding to the back of his mind. "Hey!"  
They stood there for a moment, and then Zak remembered why he was there. He took a deep breath.  
"Darryl, were you listening to the conversation George and…" he paused. "The conversation George had this morning?"  
Darryl's face fell, and he looked worried. "Well… I wasn't eavesdropping, but I may have heard some stuff…"  
Zak resisted the urge to grin. "I heard the whole conversation too, and-"  
He was cut off as Darryl grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him inside his room, shutting the door firmly. "Zak, I think I remember what they're talking about. That game? I'm pretty sure I was involved in it."  
Zak stared in shock for a second, and then collected himself. "Yeah, me too. I think I may have tested it out, or something. I don't even code, so I didn't work on the game, but I definitely remember playing."  
Darryl nodded. "I think I helped a bit with the code, not a lot, though," he replied. "Do you remember my name…?"  
Zak pondered over that for a moment. "Dad?"  
Darryl sputtered in shock. "Zak!"  
Zak started to laugh. "No, I didn't mean that- Bad! Your name was like Bad, wasn't it?"  
Darryl stopped short. "Bad? That's it?"  
Zak snorted. "No, Bad for short. Wasn't it BadBoy something?"  
"Halo!" Darryl exclaimed. "BadBoyHalo!"  
Zak frowned. "Do you want me to call you… Bad? Instead of Darryl?"  
Darryl hesitated, then nodded. "If you don't mind… I think I went by Bad some time ago, so this isn't really new, anyways."  
Zak nodded. "Bad," he said carefully, trying it out. It didn't fit Darryl at all - he was the sweetest person anyone could ask for, in Zak's opinion - but if Darryl wanted to be called Bad, then Zak was in no position to object.  
"I remember your name, I think," Darryl - no, Bad said carefully. Zak grinned. "Wasn't it like Skeptical or something?"  
"Skeppy!" Bad exclaimed, and Zak felt his face light up yet again. The memories were coming back, all of the times he and Bad had played together. He could remember the games they had played, the special moments they had made together in this game…  
"Yeah," he replied breathlessly. "You can call me Skeppy, I guess…"  
Bad smiled. "I'm honestly partly used to it already," he replied. "We must have played this game a lot."  
Skeppy nodded. "I remember we used to play one on one, trying to kill each other and break like a bed or something," he said, a smile spreading across his face. "We had so many memories here, Bad!"  
Bad sighed. "It's like George and Dream. I couldn't remember anything until Dream brought it up."  
Skeppy's jaw twitched as he thought about this. Why hadn't they remembered… anything? What was this game? Why had he tested it?  
"Do you think it has something to do with the government?"  
Skeppy looked up. Bad was staring at him, curiosity in his eyes.  
Skeppy shook his head. "I really don't know, to be honest. I don't even know what I remember anymore."  
Bad nodded, and the two sat in silence.  
But Skeppy was immersed in thought.  
He was thinking about diamonds.

George sat at the computer, hitting the power button. He heard the door close behind him as Dream rushed in, typing his password as soon as the computer booted up and waiting briefly.  
George stared. "Your password isn't password10?"  
Dream flushed, shaking his head.  
George didn't question it.  
The computer opened, and Dream stepped back, letting George take the lead. George typed something in, waited, typed something else. Dream coded himself, but from what he had seen, George was a lot better than him - George had already changed the coding on Dream's band, and his own. It was a mystery why he hadn't been ranked higher to code for the government.  
George's face creased as he stared at the computer screen, typing furiously. In a matter of seconds, he was in the database, staring at the very code programming his band. His eyes skipped over the functions, landing on the tracking code.  
He had used Darryl's activity to sign in, pretending to be a bot in order to access the code. Darryl's account would be around for a few more days, despite the fact that it had been terminated - it had to be searched before the government could completely terminate it.  
The tracking code was carefully coded, in such a way that George wouldn't have even thought of. There was some smart person behind this, he could tell.  
He blinked and the code changed.  
No way. George blinked again, stared at the screen.  
The code was changing before his very eyes.  
Goddam it. Someone was editing the code while George was trying to modify this.  
George skipped down a few lines, landing on the words "George1335". His tag.  
Ok, so that was what was tracking him. He just had to change that, and everything would be great.  
But he couldn't. Not while this person was editing it. It was in one-person mode, and…  
Oh god, they could have taken his location already. There was one option left.  
George scrolled to the top of his code and highlighted the entire coded section, not including the new tracking code.  
He took a deep breath and deleted it.  
The code flashed, and George's band switched off, the vibrations stopping, the screen going blank. It would never work again. Now that it had been terminated completely, nobody could track him.  
George hadn't wanted to go that far, because now that his band was useless, it could be used against him to verify that he was no longer an official member of society - and in a few days, the band would release it's customization settings, making it more uncomfortable for him to wear.  
But it had to be done.  
George exhaled, rolling his chair back and standing up. "Done."  
Dream nodded, his eyes flashing to George's band and then back again. "It won't work again, will it?"  
George shook his head.  
Dream's thoughts whirred. It was ok. They were ok.  
For now.


	26. Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 1500 hits POG ty everyone  
> ily :)

Floris was humming to himself.  
It was the stupidest thing, but he was happy. For once, he was especially pleased with the code he had made. It was working perfectly.  
George1335 was located in Orlando, Florida, and Floris had his exact location right in front of him. Reaching for a pen, he scrawled the address on a scrap piece of paper, and then hummed some more as he fiddled with the code.  
He would head out tomorrow. Yes, that was the plan. All he had to do was take a Glider, reach the location, and arrest George. Easy.  
That was all he had to do for his promotion - the one he had been working towards all year. Arresting the most known criminal in London with Floris's own, original code would surely gain him the spot of chief coder. At _least_ coder of the month.  
Floris clasped his hands, looked away for a split second-  
The code was gone. The _fucking_ code was gone.  
Floris stared, blinked, stared some more. His eyes told the truth. The code from George's band had completely vanished.  
And with it, his results.  
Floris slammed his hand on the desk, yanking it back with a gasp of pain, and then stamped his foot. Goddamn it! Why did these meddling coder people have to tamper with his code? How had they even broke in?  
Well, that was it. The band code was gone now, and George's band dead.  
At least George couldn't pretend he was a member of society now, and the band would probably become uncomfortable to wear - but _still_. Floris had spent ages on that code!  
It was then that he remembered he had wrote the address down. Floris snatched the scrap paper form his desk, smoothing it slightly, and grinned.  
Who says he needed the band code? He didn't need it! George's location was all he needed. The grin made its way back onto Floris's face. He didn't even need to change his plans. He would leave tomorrow.  
All was well.

George didn't even make an effort to leave the desktop chair. He sighed, defeat on his face as he exited the code.  
Dream grabbed his arm. "What's wrong?"  
George shook his head. "Nothing, I just-" he paused. "I feel like I could have done it better… now that the whole band's terminated, it's just a matter of time before someone sees my band and knows at first glance that I'm not a real member of society…"  
Dream shrugged. "So what? You can stay here; they have no way to track you, and even if they did, we'd just run, I guess..."  
George sighed. "Yeah, you're right," he replied. He pressed the power button on the pc, thoughts running through his head. "But what if-"  
The door opened, and Dream sprinted forwards, leaping and tackling the figure to the ground.  
"WHAT THE HELL!" Zak's voice rang out as he fought back, hitting Dream in the face. "DUDE!"  
Dream gasped upon hearing Zak's voice and stumbled backwards along the floor, hands up. "Zak- I'm so sorry-"  
**~trigger warning blood (you can skip to the tw over up ahead)~**  
Zak's nose was bleeding, dripping red onto the floor. He glared up at Dream.  
"Seriously?"  
Dream stared, still in shock. "I- I'm sorry-"  
Zak picked himself up, refusing to make eye contact with Dream. He turned and stormed back through the door, a hand cupped to his face to catch the blood, pushing roughly past Darryl, who turned and stared after him, a concerned look on his face.  
**~trigger warning over~**  
After a moment, Darryl turned wordlessly and went after Zak. Dream just stared.  
George held back laughter - _not appropriate for right now, George_ \- and turned to Dream. "What the hell was _that?_ "  
Dream shook his head wildly. "I- I don't know, I thought he was from the government-"  
George stared. "How?"  
Dream shrugged miserably. "I'm just not really used to having other people in my house…"  
_Oh._  
Dream had grown up alone. George had forgotten.  
"Dream, I…"  
Dream shook his head. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have attacked him, I don't know what got into me," he said quietly. George sat awkwardly, not knowing what to say.  
Dream rose to his feet. "I'm going to go… do some coding," he mumbled. Again, he refused to look at George in the eyes. "I'll see you later."  
He didn't give George a chance to respond before he was gone.  
George exhaled, pressing a hand to his forehead.  
What the hell had just happened?!

Skeppy stared into the mirror.  
**~trigger warning blood (again, you can skip if you want to)~**  
His nose had stopped bleeding, but his face was smeared with bright red. He cupped his hands to the sink, letting the water run over them and wash some of the blood off.  
**~trigger warning over~**  
He knew it. He _knew it_. That idiot Dream or whatever he liked to be called was a _psychopath_.  
Honestly! He hadn't done anything, just walk in the door, and Dream had just - just _attacked_ him?! For no reason?  
The door opened behind him and Bad walked into the bathroom, a worried look on his face. "You okay?"  
Skeppy sighed, turning away from the mirror and rubbing water on his face. "Yeah, I guess," he replied.  
Bad shook his head. "He probably feels bad, you know," he pointed out. "He didn't mean to attack you, he was just… tense from what happened with George's band…"  
Skeppy whirled to face Bad. "And that's an excuse to attack me?!"  
"I'm not saying that," Bad defended.  
Skeppy sighed in exasperation. "Then what _are_ you saying?"  
"Just that you should give him some time," Bad said carefully. "The story might not be… exactly what you think it is, Skeppy."  
"I'm not saying it is," Skeppy replied. "All I'm saying is that he shouldn't have attacked me."  
"And I agree!" Bad exclaimed. "But he's clearly having a hard time, so we probably shouldn't push it."  
Skeppy sighed. "Okay…"  
Bad smiled. "Great. Come on, let's head back to your room. I don't think Dream wants to interact with us right now…"  
Skeppy nodded, and the two headed back to the room.  
But Skeppy still couldn't stop thinking about diamonds.


	27. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I an hour late?  
> Yes.  
> Do we need to talk about it?  
> ...No.

The keyboard was clicking as Dream's fingers flew across.  
He wasn't coding like he had said he would, he was looking. Looking for a spare copy of this "game" he and George had made.   
He was trying to distract himself so he didn't feel the guilt.  
Dream hadn't meant to tackle Zak… it was just an instinct, honestly. But after what Zak had gone through, he shouldn't have attacked him, clearly.   
He would like to believe that he couldn't have helped it, but his mind wouldn't stop with the "what if's". What if he had hurt Zak? What if Zak left because of him? What if Darryl hated him?  
Dream felt the tears pricking at the back of his eyes, but he ignored them and tried to concentrate. Files upon files of data, games, websites, html code stared at him. All things he had made in his spare time.  
Dream had been in online school for the majority of secondary school, which was a pretty hard thing to get into, considering how the government had wanted stricter education. He had started a year early, as soon as he got out of the Layout Center. That, of course, was years ago. Now, everyone was online schooled - nobody could go to school outside, did that even exist anymore?  
But that wasn't the point. In online school, it made it so much easier to cheat, not prepare, that sort of stuff. So Dream had crammed for tests, failed Spanish, and somehow managed to graduate high school - all while teaching himself to code.  
He had landed a job in the government for coding soon after, but didn't rise up the ranks, so instead of coding for Hemibots like he was supposed to do, most of his time was spent on useless projects such as these. Websites he would never use, pointless games, coding…  
And the mysterious game he had coded with George.  
Which he was trying to find at that very moment.  
 _Would have been a good idea to organize by date_ , Dream thought to himself. The files were completely disorganized, and he had no way to quickly find the game file, so he was slowly sorting them.  
By hand.  
Dream sighed as he moved yet another empty game file into the trash. He was getting into the named games now, and he quickly sorted through them. Among Us, one read. Could that be it? Dream opened the file, but it was a single worker game, meaning only he had worked on it. It looked interesting, though. Dream saved the file to look at later.   
He skipped through some more empty files, landing on one that read Minecraft. It rung a bell, and it seemed to have listed coworkers. Could this be the game? Dream moved his mouse, about to open it-  
There was a knock on the door behind him. Dream hesitated, then turned around. "Come in…"  
George walked in, closing the door behind him. "Want some lunch? I could make something…"  
Dream nodded. "Yeah sure," he replied. Pushing himself away from the desk, he stood up-  
Wait a moment. This was too much like a movie.  
What if that was the file he had been looking for?  
He couldn't risk it. Dream sat back down. "Hold on," he said, whirling his chair around to face his monitor. He slid the mouse over, opened the file…  
The game code opened, as well as the start command. Dream took a deep breath and ran the command, staring at the screen, George silent behind him.  
The launcher loaded, and different versions were displayed. It didn't look familiar, but who knew? Dream hesitated, and then clicked on the most recent version, 1.15.2. He opened the game and waited.  
The game took a second, but loaded up, displaying the word "Mojang" against a plain white screen. Then, the game bar filled, launching "Minecraft".   
Singleplayer. Multiplayer. Minecraft Realms. Options. Quit game.   
Flavour with no seasoning.  
Flavour with no seasoning?  
Dream frowned at the screen, but George inhaled sharply. "Yankee with no brim!"  
Dream stared. "Wh- what?"  
George blushed. "I- nothing."  
Dream, confused, decided to ignore that for the time being. All guilt forgotten, he clicked on "singleplayer"creating a new "world", whatever that was, and waited as it loaded.  
The world formed, and a whole universe came into view.  
It was grass, hills, just like he had seen when George was chasing him. A pine forest was to his left, a savannah to his right.   
It was incredible.  
George stared, unable to tear his eyes from the screen. Dream didn't blame him. It was so familiar, yet so distant…  
Hesitantly, Dream moved his mouse around, observing his surroundings. Playing lightly with the keys, he he ran forwards, stopped, ran to a tree, and started breaking it.   
George frowned. "What are you doing?"  
Dream didn't answer. It was like instinct, he couldn't help it. He was already running for the savannah, a village in the distance. George just watched.   
Dream reached the village, grabbed some wheat, made bread. He took some beds, towered up three blocks, hitting the giant iron monster that protected the villagers with their rectangular heads, and killed it with a stone axe he had somehow made. Then he was running again, heading to a nearby cave.  
Iron was near the surface, so he grabbed it, along with some coal. He ventured deeper, and it didn't seem to go far, so he turned, he didn't even hear the hiss-  
 _Boom._  
The death message popped up on the screen. Dream stared. "What the hell!"  
George started to laugh. "That's how everyone dies their first time!"   
Smiling, Dream turned to George. "Wait, how do you know?"  
George shrugged. "I dunno, I just- remember, I guess…"  
Dream accepted the answer, staring at the screen. The whole game was coming back now, and with it, his time he had spent with George carefully coding the distinct properties of the game.   
Dream pushed away from the screen. "Come on, we can play after lunch." George shook his head. "Wait…"  
Dream let him take the seat, watching as George exited the game and started a new, creative world. It loaded, and he typed commands into the chat. /time set midnight. /summon minecraft:phantom. /gamemode survival.  
There was a cry, and a giant blue bird…? Flew out of the sky, swooping down and taking a single heart of health from George's hotbar. George gasped. "Yeah, I remember this!"   
Dream grinned, pausing the game. "Okay, I'll make lunch, come on." George smiled back, standing up and taking the lead as Dream turned off his pc. He opened the door-  
And came face to face with Zak.  
"I- oh, hi, Zak!" George mumbled awkwardly, his face rapidly turning red. Zak's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.   
George pushed past him, looking back for Dream, but Zak stepped in the room. "Dream, could we talk for a moment?"  
Dream nodded, motioning for George to go on without him, and George slipped away. Dream crossed the room, closing the door.  
Neither said a word.  
All Dream could think was _awkward awkward awkward-_  
But all Zak could think about was diamonds.


	28. Who

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'm on winter break now so I'm not sure how updating is going to go. I'm going to try to keep my regular upload schedule, but I might miss a few days, and if so, sorry about that  
> Thank you all for reading :)))

Dream shuffled his feet. Looked to the door. Looked down. Looked at the door again. It might have been the most awkward moment of his entire life, he wasn't sure.  
Zak shook his head, struggling to clear the thoughts of diamonds that for some reason wouldn't leave him alone, and stared at Dream, catching his eye. Dream froze.  
Zak spoke. "Dream?"  
Dream stepped forwards. "Zak, I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to hurt you, honestly I didn't, it was a reflex, I'm not used to living on my own and there's nobody ever here and I thought you were one of them-"  
"Hey!" Zak grabbed him by the arm. "It's fine, dude! Don't worry about it, ok? I overreacted, and I know you were stressed about the tracking thingy on George's band, so it's fine." He sighed. "I shouldn't have reacted so badly. It was my mistake."  
Dream took a shaky breath. "No, you're fine, it was me," he insisted. Zak shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't matter, I'm over it. We good?"  
Dream nodded, and Zak grinned. "You're really good at fighting, by the way," he admitted. "I've trained for years and you still took me by surprise."  
It was Dream's turn to smile. "Yeah, I've had a lot of practice."  
Zak raised an eyebrow, but Dream didn't elaborate. After a moment, he added, "You can call me Skeppy."  
Dream's eyebrows shot up. "Skeppy?"  
Recognition formed in his eyes. "I remember you! You and- and Bad, right?" he was full on grinning. "Darryl! Is Bad Darryl?"  
Skeppy nodded. "Yeah, that's Bad. I think we worked on testing the game with you, right?"  
Dream shrugged. "I don't know. We definitely worked on it, though. I remember playing with you," he replied.  
Skeppy smiled, and a tentative knock sounded on the door behind him. Skeppy whirled around, and Dream tensed as the door slowly opened.  
Bad poked his head into the room cautiously, and frowned at the sight of Skeppy. "Skeppyyyyy! I told you not to go in there!"  
Skeppy grinned, opening the door all the way for Bad. "It's fine, we're good," he replied. Dream nodded.  
Bad narrowed his eyes, staring at Skeppy, then Dream. "Ok then…"  
"I'm supposed to be the skeptical one!" Skeppy joked, and Bad laughed. Dream just stared, confused.  
Skeppy frowned, then realized. "Oh, that's how I got my name," he explained. "Everyone said I was too skeptical, so it became Skepty, then Skeppy."  
Dream raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."  
"I'm BadBoyHalo because I'm a bad boy," Bad bragged, grinning triumphantly at Skeppy, who laughed. "You couldn't be bad if you tried!"  
Bad pouted, and Dream smiled. They were awfully cute together.  
Maybe someday he'd be like that. Have someone that loved him for who he was. He wasn't usually this sentimental, but seing Bad and Skeppy brought out something… different.  
Interesting.  
"Dream?"  
The yell was from downstairs. George, evident by the accent.   
His voice made Dream smile, despite his best intentions to keep a nonchalant expression.   
_Why was he smiling?_  
"Coming!" Dream yelled back, and then motioned to Skeppy. "Come on, let's go. George wants lunch."  
Skeppy grinned, and a yell was heard. "I do not! I mean I do but I don't want you to make it but I do but like-"  
Dream grinned. "We're coming down!" he yelled, walking towards the stairs. Skeppy and Bad followed, Skeppy grinning slightly at the evident blush on Dream's face.  
Dream descended, feeling his cheeks heat up as George smiled at him, then turned to Skeppy with narrowed eyes. Skeppy avoided his glance altogether, and Bad stared at George, confused but not willing to question anything.   
George's death glare didn't waver.  
Dream walked into the kitchen, past George, trying to ignore his expression. "Sandwiches?"  
"Sure," Skeppy replied. George didn't say a thing, and Bad nervously looked around, refusing to give his input.  
Needless to say, the meal was a quiet one. Dream tried starting conversation a few times, but it never caught on.   
Bad spent the meal staring at his plate and refusing to talk. Skeppy looked around a few times, but kept to himself. George would occasionally glare at Skeppy, but otherwise kept his gaze on his meal.  
That was probably why the knock at the front door was appreciated. Dream almost sighed out of relief - _finally, sound_ \- but managed to keep a straight face and got up, walking to the door.  
Wait a moment.  
Dream froze, inches from the door. What if it was the government?  
Honestly, who else could it be?  
Dream stayed in one place, reserved, and collected himself.  
He turned and walked back to the table, seating himself without a word.

Floris's mind was whirling. The opportunity was right in front of him.   
All he had to do was get George to open the door, assuming he was at the right place, and arrest him. That was it.  
He was so close to victory he could almost taste it. Grinning, Floris raised his hand to the door and knocked again.

The knock sounded again.  
Skeppy looked up slightly. "You gonna answer it?"  
"He doesn't have to if he doesn't want to," George responded instantly. Dream stared.  
 _Why is George acting so weird?_

Floris waited impatiently. Why wasn't George answering the door?  
They didn't know it was him, did they?  
No, of course not. They couldn't.  
Floris knocked twice more.

The knock went again. And again.  
Dream inhaled. "What do we do?"  
Skeppy stared. "What do you mean? Answer it!"  
"But what if it's the government?" Dream asked.  
Skeppy's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he stood. "Come on. I can fight for us if I need to."  
Dream nodded, getting up and walking to the door. George frowned, but followed them. Bad hastily unseated himself and hurried after Skeppy.

Floris heard footsteps to the door. They were coming. He pulled out his weapon.

Dream turned the doorknob. Opened the door.  
And came face to face with a gun.  
"Put up your hands!"


	29. Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, late chapter-  
> my grandmas house is legit crazy-  
> also in a kinda bad mental state rn, wrote this at 1 am so pls dont kill me-  
> hope everyones having a good holiday, ty for reading :)))

Dream only took a split second to think before putting up his hands. He didn't want to accidentally hurt someone like he had done to Skeppy. And besides, mo way was he about to fight a government member - Dream could tell by the faceted crystal on his shirt - especially not one that had a gun.  
A gun that was, at the moment, pointed directly at his face.  
Skeppy, on the other hand, didn't waste a second.  
He yelled and leapt at the officer.  
The officer yelped as Skeppy crashed into him, knocking him over and down the four steps leading up to Dream's house. A horrified shriek came from behind as Bad ran up to the door.  
"Skeppy, stop!"  
Skeppy didn't comply, lashing out and landing a punch to the guards face. He was yelling, random sounds emitting from his mouth.  
The gun went off with a bang, shooting to the left and ricocheting off of the bricks on Dream's house. Skeppy shouted, falling back off of the guard as he threw a punch to his stomach, narrowly missing.  
The guard was fighting back now, the gun having fallen from his hand but still landing punches on Skeppy. Skeppy refused to let up, tackling the guard to the ground, his arm scraping across the concrete steps.  
The guard gained the upper ground, punching Skeppy in the head. Skeppy gasped in pain, falling backwards, limp in the floor. The officer rolled over, grabbed the gun, and in one smooth motion, pointed it at Skeppy's head, who was still lying on the ground.  
"One move and I'll shoot!"  
Bad yelled, shoving his way to the front. "Skeppy! Skeppy!"  
Dream watched as Skeppy rolled over groggily, regaining his senses. The guard shoved the gun further out.  
"Don't. Move."  
Bad was on the verge of tears. "Skeppy…"  
Skeppy made eye contact, willing Bad not to cry. _It's gonna be ok. Everything's gonna be fine._  
That was when Dream took the lead.  
"You're with them, huh?"  
The guard turned. "Wha?"  
Dream stared at him, squaring off his shoulders. "You're with the government?"  
The guard fidgeted. "Yeah, yeah I am."  
He had a strong dutch accent, Dream noticed. Interesting.  
"Why?"  
The guard was getting impatient. "Why what?"  
" _Why are you with them?_ "  
The guard seemed to be taken aback. "Well, I mean, I'm a coder, I'm good at what I do, so-"  
"But it's ridiculous!"  
George's voice cut through the air as he stepped forwards. "Don't you realize what you're doing? You're tracking me for no reason! What, because I made a phone call you're all against me? Because I wanted to talk to my _family?_ "  
The guard stepped forwards. "Just a minute! You broke the rules, didn't you? Interactions are _not allowed!_ " He paused. "And then you took a Glider and flew away! Do you know how sstupid that was? The whole world knows about you! You're the one who put London in lockdown!"  
"As if we weren't in lockdown already," George countered. "We're not even allowed to see anyone, talk to anyone, interact at all! It's basically the same thing!"  
The guard frowned. "That doesn't change the fact that you broke the rules."  
George sighed, exasperated. "So what? What have they promised you that's so important, huh? So many people are - are _dying _from these tests you put us through! Imagine tomorrow you wake up and you've been selected. Your whole industry could turn against you!"  
The guard shrugged. "Not if I'm a higher rank. And you know you I'm gonna get there?" He fidgeted with his gun. "By turning you, the most wanted criminal in London, in to the police.  
George choked. "Did you say _criminal?_ "  
"You have a criminal record," the officer replied. "How could you not? You- you ran from the authorities, you had forbidden interactions, you _hacked your own band_ -"  
George stared, then came to his senses. "So fucking what?"  
The guard stared. "So you broke the rules!"  
George was furious. "Do you know something? I have friends whose parents have lost their lives to your tests! Whose families have fallen apart because of you!" He took in a breath. "And you want to turn me in? For what? What are you going to do, test me? Kill me?"  
He stopped, tears in his eyes. "I can't believe people like you exist in our world. Your tests are stupid anyways."  
The guard stared. Waited.  
"Goddam it!"  
George looked up.  
The guard shook his head and said mildly "I knew it would happen, I just wasn't prepared enough. Well, you've got me now." He lowered his gun. "I'm in."  
"Juuuuuuuust a minute!"  
Dream stepped forwards, ignoring his conflicted emotions. "You can't just… be in, you know! You're from the government, how do we know you're not betraying us?"  
The guard shrugged. "I dunno, I just want to be part of you guys, I guess-"  
Skeppy was moving carefully, slowly, inching towards the officer. Dream opened his mouth. "I-"  
Skeppy leapt to his feet, grabbing both of the guard's wrists in a single move and pinning them behind his back. "What's your name?"  
The guard struggled. "Let me go-"  
" _What's your name?_ "  
"Floris! Floris, my name is Floris!"  
There was a knife in Skeppy's hand. Dream hadn't noticed it.  
" _You_. You're the one who hurt Bad, aren't you, you little piece of shit-"  
Dream grabbed his hand. "Careful, Skeppy-"  
Skeppy shook it off, enraged. "You hurt him! How could you?"  
Floris shook his head. "I- I don't know, I thought you were bad, evil, I thought-"  
Skeppy's knife was pressing into Floris's skin. "What do you mean, you thought we were evil? How did you think we were evil, huh?"  
Dream gently pried the knife from Skeppy's grasp. "Hey, hey. Sit down, Skeppy-"  
Skeppy wrestled against Dream. "He hurt Bad! HE-"  
"SKEPPY! SIT DOWN!"  
Skeppy jolted backwards, startled, and then sat grumpily, a sulking look on his face. George shot him a withering glance.  
"As for you, Floris," Dream said carefully, "you should sit as well. I think… we maybe need to talk."  
Floris didn't bother arguing. He sat on the steps.  
Skeppy ignored the blood on his arm and tried to focus.  
Why were the diamonds back?__


	30. Reunite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I meant to update yesterday, I just got roped into visiting distant relatives and didn't have time, I'm sorry-  
> Warning: Long, boring a/n up ahead-  
> So firstly, we're two hits away from 2k, so thank you all so much for reading! I love and appreciate all of you <3  
> Secondly, I found out how to check my user subscriptions, and two of you are subscribed- to me?! Idk who you are but thanks :)  
> I have somehow 39 subscriptions to my book, and thats just incredible, so thank you everyone  
> How do my hits keep going up? Do new people just keep dropping in and checking the story? Like- what-  
> Lastly, I know I'm not constantly uploading like I want to, so I'm going to try and get chapters out every other day like I've promised. Again, thank all of you for reading, it motivates me to keep writing and this fic is very special to me.  
> ~low

Dream took in a breath. The figure sitting before him looked familiar, but he couldn't remember why…  
It didn't matter. He opened his mouth.  
"Now. I don't know who you are, or why you're here of all places, but we need to talk-"  
He didn't even get to finish his sentence before Skeppy butted in. "He's here because we knocked him out earlier! He attacked Bad, so I hit him, I didn't even mean to hurt him badly but he just went unconscious and then we stole his identification and I knew I shouldn't have come here I put you in danger I'm so sorry-"  
Floris frowned. "Wait wait wait, that's not what happened! I'm not here for you- I don't even know you!"  
Skeppy stared. "What?"  
Floris shrugged. "You may be worth something, I guess, but not more than the most valuable criminal in the world right now - and that's George. The brunette, I suppose?"  
George gritted his teeth. "Don't call me that."  
Floris raised his eyebrows. "As you wish."  
Now Bad stepped in. "No, Skeppy's right, you shot me in the arm! Remember?" he held out his wrist, the bandages clean yet tightly wrapped to help the wound heal.  
Floris stared. "I… did that?"  
Skeppy was looking mad. "Yeah, you sure as hell did! You could have killed him!"  
Floris shook his head. "I…" he took a deep breath. "I know I was robbed after I attacked someone, and then they stole my S-mob, I just don't remember who they were…" he turned to Bad, and there was real compassion in his eyes. "If that actually was you, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…"  
Bad didn't bother to reply, fidgeting with the edge of his sweater as Skeppy seethed. Dream hurriedly stepped in., changing the topic.  
"How did you get here?"  
Floris shrugged. "Like I said, I code a lot. I'm one of the best coders on our team, actually," he replied. George groaned. "Cut out the boasting, will you?"  
Floris felt his cheeks heat up. "Yeah, well all I'm saying is that I'm good at coding. I made some custom code that would track you and lock onto your band, so that you couldn't change it, and I fixed the settings so it was in one-person mode-"  
"Yeah, I saw that!" George cut in. "I was trying to edit the code, but it wouldn't let me…"  
Floris motioned to the band on George's wrist, now limp and dead. "I see you've deactivated your band?"  
George sighed. "It was really all I could do," he replied.  
Floris had pride in his eyes - _he had forced George to shut down his band_ \- but he forced it down. Now wasn't the time.  
Dream took the conversation once more. "So you took our location, tracked us down and just… knocked?"  
Floris sighed. "The plan was to ambush George, because I thought he was alone. I would threaten him, capture him and bring him back to the base. It… didn't work out so well."  
George rolled his eyes, and Dream grinned. "I can see that."  
Skeppy stared. "Why wouldn't you just bring a government team with you?"  
"I wanted the fame by myself," Floris replied. "I wanted to do it on my own."  
Bad stepped in tentatively. "And now you… want to be on our side?"  
Floris flushed. "I know that sounds weird, I can explain-"  
Skeppy opened his mouth, but Dream shushed him. "Go ahead, Floris."  
Skeppy shot Dream an impatient glance, but Dream ignored it. He had other things to think about.   
Something about Floris was really getting on Dream's nerves.  
Why did he look so familiar?  
Floris started talking. "Look, I didn't really have a choice when I joined the government, okay? I started coding when I was like 12, I didn't know anything… They took me in, said I had talent, taught me everything I can do today. I didn't realize what they were doing until a few weeks ago, and I didn't want to take action because without them, where would I go?"  
He paused. "If you're, like, willing to take action against them, then I'm all in! I… I just want somewhere I can be… accepted, y'know?"  
George stepped in. "Why did you start coding when you were 12? Isn't that a bit early?"  
Floris looked uncomfortable. "Well… I… I didn't really have a family, at least not one I knew of… I grew up with nobody except for one friend I made in the Layout Centre, and I haven't seen them in years-"  
Dream frowned. "Hold on, hold on. You… you grew up in a Layout Centre?"  
Floris nodded, and Dream stared, starting to put things together.   
"F… Fundy?"  
Floris's eyes widened. "No way. No way! Clay?"  
Dream didn't think he had ever smiled so hard in his entire life. "Fundy!"  
He leapt at Floris, tackling him to the ground with a hug. Floris held on, trying not to cry.  
He hadn't made a single friend in that centre except for Clay. They had grown up together. They had been best friends.  
The government had forced them apart.  
Floris had always known they'd make their way back together.  
Bad was smiling, the sweet moment rather wholesome in his eyes. They were two friends reuniting, and it was an amazing sight.  
George was glowering.  
Dream pulled back, and there were tears in his eyes. "I- I thought I'd never see you again-"  
Floris was grinning. "I knew I'd find you someday!"  
It was a cringy line, but it worked in the moment. Skeppy felt a smile appear on his face.  
"Can we continue the conversation?" George snapped, and Dream turned to him. "George, what the hell!"  
George flushed slightly. "I just don't think you should be- be _reuniting_ in the middle of Florida, outside where the government could catch you!"  
Dream composed himself. "I guess you're right," he replied, stepping back and taking a seat. The grin didn't leave his face, however.  
Floris was grinning, too. "I can't believe this!"  
Skeppy maneuvered his way in swiftly, ignoring the mountainous glare on George's face. "Floris?"  
Floris turned, nervousness evident in his face. "Yeah?"  
"What do you have to offer us?"  
The question caught Floris off guard. "Wh- what do you mean?"  
"Like why should we let you join us? What good can you do? I know you work for the government… maybe you could let us in on some of that?"  
Floris thought for a moment. "Actually, I have a lot of information," he replied carefully.  
Skeppy raised an eyebrow. "Oh? On what?"  
Floris looked him dead in the eye.  
"On the government tests."


	31. Tests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its official: 2k hits ty everyone :)  
> idk what else to say but i mean thanks for reading, i hope you enjoy...?
> 
> || If I was professional
> 
> Well, It's official: We've achieved 2k hits! Thanks everyone!  
> I'm not sure what else to say, but thanks for reading!
> 
> ...yeah i prefer the non professional version thanks

Dream lurched forwards in his seat, then hastily moved back. He was trying not to react... but it was pretty evident.  
The government tests. The very tests that had torn his family apart.  
"What… kind of information do you have?" George asked carefully, keeping an eye on Dream to gauge his reaction.   
Floris's expression changed ever so slightly. It went from talkative…  
To sly.  
Cunning.  
"I know all about them. I know where they're run, I know how they work, I know how to conduct them. It would be one of the promotions I got, if I turned George in - I would be allowed to spectate the tests."  
Dream shuddered. Why would anyone want to spectate the tests? Dream had watched his mother… his mother take the test…  
Without realizing, he had frozen up in his seat. He didn't notice a thing until he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
George was standing over him. "Hey, you okay?"  
Dream nodded, trying to compose himself. "Yeah, I'm fine…"  
It was barely a whisper, and luckily, George noticed that Dream's behaviour was off. He took Dream's hand gently.   
"Come inside, ok? I don't think it's a good idea to talk about this now."  
Dream shook his head. "No, I… I want to hear more…"  
George pulled him up. "Another time," he replied firmly. Dream sighed, but didn't bother protesting. George motioned to Bad, whispering "keep him company, I'll be there in a few minutes."  
Bad was more than happy to comply, taking Dream's arm and leading him inside. Once they had gone, George took his seat once more, turning to face Floris.  
"Tell me more."

Dream was still shaking slightly, and Bad had noticed. He lead Dream to his temporary room, taking a seat on the bed and motioning for Dream to join him.  
Dream sat, exhaling shakily, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to collect his emotions. Bad sat silently.  
After a moment, Dream looked up. "I'm sorry for the trouble, Bad. You can go back out if you want."  
Bad shook his head. "No, I'd rather be here for you, Dream. You know you can tell my anything, right?"  
Dream nodded. "Yeah, I just…"  
Bad waited, and Dream continued. "I want to know about the government tests, but it's a hard… a hard topic for me to, you know, talk about."  
Bad nodded, questions whirling around his head but not asking for fear of scaring Dream. Dream took a deep breath and continued.  
"I grew up in a Layout Center, Bad."  
Bad tried to conceal his surprise, but his sharp intake of breath was enough to tip Dream off. So that was how he knew Floris - they must have grown up in the same Center.  
Dream nodded, a small smile on his face, which slowly faded into deep memories, the smile dropping away. Finally, he spoke.  
"There's really no good way to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt."  
He was nearly choking on his words, but forced them out.  
Bad grabbed him. "Dream, don't force yourself to tell me anything you don't want to, okay?"  
Dream nodded. "It's fine, Bad." He took another breath. "My mom died… died from government testing, when I was really young. My dad left us because of that, and my sister… I don't know where she went. I haven't seen her since."  
Bad's face flipped in an instant, sorrow evident across his features. "I'm so sorry, Dream."  
Dream shrugged. "I didn't really know them. Anyways, I…"   
His mother's screams ran through his head. _Stop. Please, stop._  
"I don't remember anything from that night, anyways. It doesn't matter."  
Bad nodded slowly. "Okay…"  
Dream shrugged. "So just hearing about the tests… it was hard, I guess. Just memories."  
Bad nodded. "I… I get it, Dream."   
He didn't elaborate, but Dream didn't ask him to. They sat there in silence.  
Finally, Bad spoke up. "Does anyone else know?"  
"Only George," Dream confessed, staring at his feet.  
Bad nodded. "I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me."  
Dream smiled ever so slightly.  
"Thanks, Bad."

Floris was running over possible outcomes in his mind. What to tell? What to hide?  
He decided to start with the most obvious. "You know the… the brain chips, what to they call them here? Smallchips?"  
"Microchips?" George asked.  
Floris nodded. "Those, they're how the government runs the tests. Do you know what Virtual Reality is?"  
George nodded, but Skeppy shook his head. Floris explained. "It's like a video game, but inside of your head. The projections we make come from the Microchip."  
Skeppy nodded slowly, trying to process this, and Floris went on. "Basically, the subject is placed inside a world and has to complete the game, without any instruction."  
George stared, and Skeppy furrowed his eyebrows. "How is anyone supposed to do that?"  
Floris shrugged. "Most don't make it through the first night."  
George felt like he would be sick. Skeppy leaned back in his chair.  
A random game. No instruction.  
No wonder so many people died from these tests. It was disgusting.  
Floris looked grim. "I think the government made the game, but I'm not sure. It was tested, still is being tested, I don't know why, but in the end, there's probably some great objective that the government hasn't told me yet."  
George couldn't even process this, but an idea came to his head. "Can you show me the game?"  
Floris thought for a moment. "Yeah, I have some screenshots on my phone, just from playing the game outside of testing," he replied.  
George waited as he pulled them up. Yeah, Floris wouldn't be eligible for testing, would he? Probably not, considering how high of a rank he had managed to obtain.  
Imagine that. Never having to worry about being tested.  
A dream come true, wouldn't it be?  
Floris leaned forwards. "Here."  
He passed the phone to George, and George almost dropped it in shock of what he saw.  
Blocks. Animals. One in particular that stood out.  
A bat? No, a bird like mob. With wings. Blue wings and yellow… no, green eyes.  
A phantom.  
This wasn't any game. This was…  
This was _their_ game.  
This was Minecraft.


	32. Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone!!  
> another chapter coming out tonight because why not  
> also i didnt even realize but its already chapter 32... how is it going so fast i have so much more i wanted to put in this story :(

George couldn't process it.  
He stared at the phone, unable to tear his gaze away. He had made this game. He had made something for the government.  
Something that was killing thousands of people across the world.  
Because of him.  
After a moment, George passed the phone back to Floris, not saying a word. Floris didn't let it go so easily, though. He took the phone, catching George's gaze.  
"What is it?"  
George stared back. "What?"  
"I can tell you recognized something. What was it?" Floris wasn't letting up.  
George looked away, making a split second decision. "I'll tell you…"  
He paused. This probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, especially because Dream wasn't there to help with the decision, but he pressed on.  
"I'll tell you if you agree you're 100 percent on our side. I don't want a traitor helping us, or knowing anything that can help the government."  
Floris considered, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm in."  
Skeppy leaned forwards, an uncertain look on his face, but George shot him a look and he backed off.  
George wasn't stupid. No way was he just going to let Floris in like that and share everything he knew. But this information? If Floris worked for the government, wouldn't he have heard it anyways?  
"Basically…"  
George took a deep breath.  
"I made that."  
Skeppy's eyes widened.  
Floris stared. "That? Like, the tests?"  
George shrugged. "Yeah, me and Dream and a few others worked on it together before the whole no interactions thing. We pretty much just coded the whole thing."  
Skeppy hesitated. "I knew Dream worked on it, but I didn't know about you. Bad and I tested it out, I think…"  
George nodded. "There were some sort of chasing games me and Dream used to do, as well. I think Bad was a part of it, and a few others, but I don't really remember them…"  
Floris was still staring. "I- I had no idea! You actually _made_ this?"  
George grinned. "Pretty cool, right?"  
Floris's face broke into a grin. "Super cool! I worked on modifying the tests after they came out, but never the actual game code! That's amazing!"  
Skeppy didn't say a word, but he was thinking hard. He didn't quite trust Floris.  
But he didn't tend to trust anyone, really. At least, that's what Bad always said.  
The front door opened, and Bad and Dream walked out onto the steps, Bad keeping a close eye on Dream, who turned to the group. "Sorry about that, I-"  
Floris shoved the phone at Dream, and he stumbled backwards, taking it. "Woah, Fundy, why-"  
His gaze changed as he stared at the phone, then looked up at George, who now had a rather sour look on his face. "It's… it's Minecraft! But how-"  
"The government tests," Floris supplied. "It's… it's your game, Dream."  
"Our game," George mumbled under his breath.  
Dream ignored him. "But how? How did you get these files?"  
"I modified the game for the government after interactions became forbidden," Floris replied. "It was part of my job."  
Dream stared, open mouthed. "So the thing we worked on… it's being used for…"  
He didn't finish. George nodded, a grim look replacing the sour one.  
Dream's enthusiastic nature had faded. He looked around hesitantly, then spoke up.  
"It's getting late, we should head in."  
George frowned, confused at the sudden change of subject, but Dream was right - the sun was slowly sinking in the sky. He stood, and Floris did the same, turning as if to leave, but Dream stopped him.  
"Stay a few nights, Fundy? You can't go back there, especially not if you want to work with us…"  
"He's already with us," George spoke up. "I said he could be."  
Dream turned to George. "Oh. Ok…" He looked like he wanted to say something more, but he kept his mouth shut.  
Floris nodded. "I'll stay for now - I can modify my band code now, and I can return later anyways. It'll be good to have someone inside the government base working for us."  
Dream nodded. "For sure. There's a room upstairs that you can have; Bad can show you where."  
Floris smiled. "Thanks, Dream."  
Dream returned the smile. "No problem."  
George's face was the definition of unpleasant. Skeppy watched with confusion and slight amusement.  
Dream opened the front door, and the party proceeded to walk through. As George made his way towards the kitchen, Dream grabbed his arm, letting the front door fall behind him. George turned, an exasperated look on his face.  
"What is it?"  
Dream pulled him towards the hallway, away from the others, and looked him in the eye.  
"George, you're acting weird. I've noticed it, Bad's noticed it, Skeppy's noticed it. You never used to be this way, I- I just don't understand!"  
George glared at the floor. "I don't know what you mean."  
"Yes, you do," Dream replied. "First you were giving Skeppy mean glances, now Fundy? George, what's the problem?"  
George stared. Fundy? Who- oh, _Floris_. Of course Dream had a special name for him.  
Whatever.  
"It's nothing, okay? Drop it," George responded. Dream stepped closer, causing George's face to heat up. He couldn't tear his stare away from Dream's face.  
"I'm not just going to _drop it_ , George. There's something you're not telling me, and I need to know it. What did Fundy ever do to you?"  
George was flushing red, his thoughts screaming at him to just tell Dream, tell him already how he felt about him.  
_Because I like you, Dream. Because I don't want them to like you like I like you, okay?_  
But he couldn't tell him. He just couldn't.  
George stepped back, pushing Dream away roughly. "I said, drop it! I don't have to tell you anything. Just leave me alone!"  
Dream's eyes widened and he blinked back tears, startled by the sudden change of tone in George's voice. "Ok, I…"  
He didn't finish, and instead turned his gaze to the floor. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." It was barely a whisper.  
George didn't move as Dream turned to the stairs and left. The shame began to sink in.  
Great. He had fucked everything up. Again.  
Why couldn't he do anything right?


	33. Confess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter for some reason enjoy ig-  
> idk why i was so motivated today but pog i suppose

Dream was halfway up the stairs when the voices stopped behind him. He could practically feel the other's gazes on his back.  
He didn't bother to turn around, barely making it to his room before he slammed the door and collapsed into a ball on the bed, holding his head in his arms as he dissolved into sobs.  
George's face was embedded in his head. The angry expression. The words he had said.  
 _Just leave me alone!_  
Dream pressed his hands to his head, trying to shut it out. _Please, make it go away…_  
It was his fault. All his fault. He shouldn't have pried, shouldn't have asked George anything at all, not if this was the result. He should have just let George act weird. Why couldn't he do anything right?  
He really thought George would have… treated him different, somehow. He thought about George all the time.  
God, that was weird.  
It didn't matter.  
Dream didn't know how long he sat crying before there was a knock at the door. _Shit._  
He couldn't think straight, he was panicking, they couldn't come in, couldn't see him like this, couldn't-  
The door opened before Dream could react, and George face was there. It was the most beautiful thing to Dream.  
And the most awful thing, in the same moment.  
Dream lifted his head, tears staining his cheeks, and held George's glance.  
A moment passed.  
George stepped inside the room, closing the door gently behind him. Without a word, he crossed the room to sit beside Dream.  
Dream let his tears flow, head hanging down. He couldn't look at George.  
And then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Another beneath his chin.  
George tilted his head up, slowly, catching his gaze and refusing to let go. Dream looked him in the eyes, tears blurring his vision.  
George slowly swiped Dream's tears away, running his thumb across Dream's cheeks. Dream felt his heart flip, confusion advancing in the heat of the moment, but at the same time, excitement.  
George leaned in, keeping Dream's gaze. Dream stared, unable to move. His whole body felt numb, like it was no longer under his control.  
And George kissed him.  
Dream felt his eyes flutter shut, kissing George back, clinging to his hair. All he could feel was safety. It was going to be okay.  
George pulled back, staring at Dream in the eyes, and Dream couldn't say a word.   
He was completely speechless.  
What had just happened?  
And then George flushed as he realized what he had done. He stood, stumbling backwards from the bed. "Dream… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"  
Dream grabbed his arm. "Sit."  
George sat, his cheeks heating up. _ohgodohgodohgodwhatdidIjustdo-_  
Dream took his hand, staring at him. "George, why…"  
George shook his head. "I- I'm sorry, Dream, I honestly didn't mean to, I just…"  
Dream waited, and George suddenly stood. "I can't take it anymore! I like you, Dream, and not just as a friend - I like you a lot. I don't know why I'm so jealous of everyone who's close to you, I can't control my emotions, and I'm a horrible person, I know, but I just- I can't do it anymore! Dream, I- I love you!"  
He was crying now, tears forcing their way down his cheeks as he stood. Dream stared, then stood up beside him.  
"George?"  
George nodded through his tears.  
"I… I love you too," Dream whispered, taking George's face in his own hands. George blinked back his tears.  
"Do you mean that?"  
"Why would I lie to you?" Dream replied, running a hand through George's hair. "George, I've liked you ever since we started working together for the government, and I… I want to be more than friends, if you do too…"  
George couldn't even believe it. There was absolutely no way this could be happening. No way. This couldn't be real.  
And yet it was. George knew it from how Dream looked at him. He had never seen that expression on Dream. It was so raw, so real…  
It was the most beautiful thing George had ever seen.  
"Then be my boyfriend, or whatever. I'm more than in," George replied. Dream stared, then started to laugh. "That's all I get? 'Be my boyfriend or whatever'?"  
George's tears were long since gone as he started to laugh too. "You're such an idiot…"  
"Your idiot," Dream grinned, and George couldn't have felt happier.   
It was the perfect time to remember his parents.  
George's face fell, and Dream noticed almost instantly. "What is it?"  
George looked away. "Dream, I guess I'm…" He inhaled. "I'm gay, I've known for a while now but I didn't want to say because I don't know how my parents will react, and I don't even know if I'll see them again and what if they don't accept me, don't accept us-"  
Dream took George's hand. "George. If they don't accept us, then they're idiots. But that's besides the point. No matter what, I'll always accept you." He went on. "Bad and Skeppy are together, they'll accept us. I used to have a friend who was gay, I can't remember their name but they were awesome. I think I'm bi, George, but I don't know, and honestly, I don't care. Being with you is enough."  
George was speechless. That was… one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to him, and it was all he wanted to hear.   
He was accepted.  
George launched himself at Dream, throwing them both back onto the bed as he buried his head in Dream's neck. Dream held him tightly, not wanting to let go.  
When they both drew back, Dream smiled at George. "You wouldn't ever tell me you loved me, remember?"  
George grinned. "Yeah, I remember. I just… I don't think I wanted to… accept myself, you know? I didn't want to believe in the feelings. I didn't think you felt… the same."  
Dream grinned back. "I'm glad you came to terms with your feelings, George, because I sure as hell wasn't about to walk up and kiss you out of nowhere!"  
George flushed, but the grin on his face didn't budge. "Shut up. You're such an idiot."  
"Your idiot!" Dream yelled back, and George's grin somehow grew even more.  
He felt like he was on top of the world.


	34. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so school is starting for me again, just a heads up, so sorry if im late uploading some days-  
> thanks everyone who reads/comments on/leaves kudos on my story, it really motivates me to keep writing :)  
> hope everyone had a great holiday!

It was early morning, around 6 am in central Florida. Downstairs in the kitchen of Dream's house, the group of 5 stood around the kitchen table.  
A few days had passed since Dream had… officially decided to be with George. They hadn't told anyone, at least not yet. Anyways, there were more important things to be considered at the present time.  
Floris was leaving.  
Not forever, just so that he wouldn't raise suspicion. He had been gone from his assigned base for around three days now, enough that the other members of his cohort would begin to wonder where he was.  
The plan was that he would head back to his base, and attempt to sell the story that he hadn't found out anything. The house he thought George would be at was abandoned, and he 'thought' George had already left.  
The group had decided already that it was too dangerous for Floris to quit his job. It would be way too unexpected, and a suspicious move overall. Instead, Floris was to continue working for the government, getting information to pass on to the rest of the group.  
Dream and George were both hustling around the kitchen, preparing for Floris to leave, ensuring he had everything he might need for his journey back. Floris's s-mob had been moved into the fields earlier the previous day, in order to hide it from anyone who might come by, and so the current plan was that Floris would walk to the fields, take the s-mob, and drive the opposite way around so that it would seem as though he had come from the other side of Florida.  
Floris was back in his guard costume. Dream had been as nice as to wash his outfit, as well as making sure that Floris's government crystal was in top condition before he left. George didn't mind all the fuss; Floris and Dream may have been best friends but he couldn't have been happier to finally know that Dream loved him just like he loved Dream.  
Bad, who had fixed up Floris's injuries enough to avoid detection, was buzzing anxiously around Floris, giving him first aid advice. "Don't change the bandages until tomorrow, Floris - Dream, did you give him the new ones?"  
Dream sighed as he turned to face Bad. "Yes, Bad, I already told you that he got them. He also has the bandaids, the medicine you made him, the-"  
Skeppy interrupted, steering Bad gently away from Floris. "He'll be fine," he told Bad, who sighed but allowed himself to be lead away.  
George just observed, anxiously checking the clock on the right side of the wall for the fourth time that morning. 6:06 am.  
Floris finally brushed off Dream, who was still checking to make sure he had everything, and turned to face the group. "I should go. Don't want to be late."  
The government office opened at strictly 8:30 am, and it was a two hour journey by s-mob. Dream nodded slowly, stepping back.   
"Stay safe, okay?"  
Floris smiled. "I'll try."  
Bad opened the front door for him, the group anxiously watching over his shoulder as Floris walked down the stairs, looked around cautiously, and then waved back. Dream stepped forwards, waving in reply.  
Floris turned and began to hurry down the road. He would travel by foot until he reached the fields.  
Dream ushered everyone back inside the house, hurriedly closing the door behind them with a soft _clunk_. It was still fairly early in the morning, and it would be quite suspicious if anyone noticed them awake.  
George yawned. "I'm going back to bed," he mumbled, making his way to the stairs. Dream held back a laugh.  
Bad, on the other hand, turned to Dream. "Would you mind showing me more of that game? Minecraft?" Dream nodded, turning to check with Skeppy. "You good by yourself?"  
Skeppy shrugged. "I've got some stuff to do anyways, so yeah, go ahead," he replied nonchalantly. Bad flashed him a grin and the pair ascended up the staircase, leaving Skeppy alone.  
What to do?  
It was risky, but Skeppy had been wanting to… to visit the forest behind Dream's house. It had been on his mind ever since they had arrived.   
It wouldn't be safe, but Skeppy knew what he was doing. He could defend himself.  
So he carefully pried open the front door and stepped out, checking once to ensure nobody was watching before gently shutting the door behind him. The cool morning air washed over his skin, and he inhaled, the familiar scent of his home floating around him.  
The sound of a s-mob echoed in the distance. It was probably Floris leaving for his base, but even so, Skeppy didn't feel safe. On the off chance that it wasn't Floris…  
Then it was the government.  
It wasn't likely, but Skeppy didn't like the chances he was taking by just standing out in the open. He darted down the steps, then into the forest, nimble and quick on his feet, like he had taught himself to be.  
As soon as his shoes hit the dirt, he felt at home.  
Glancing around, Skeppy felt himself relax. The early morning sunlight streamed through the trees, projecting shadows on the ground as the wind rose above him. It was so peaceful. So… beautiful. He wished Bad could see it.  
The soft sounds of birds began to echo from above, accompanied by the early morning crickets. Skeppy's feet took him further, deeper into the forest as he looked in awe around the forest. The damp dirt was soft beneath his feet.  
And then the birds stopped chirping.  
That was unusual. More than unusual, it was dangerous. Too dangerous for Skeppy's liking.  
He took a step backwards, eyes darting across the forest. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw it.  
A shadow.  
Skeppy felt his heart accelerate in his chest, his breathing growing rapid. There was someone there.  
 _I should go. I should leave right now._  
His feet refused to move.  
And then a shout from the forest.  
"Wait!"  
It sounded… familiar.  
Familiar?  
And from the forest stepped someone, someone Skeppy recognized. They had dirty blonde hair. Blue eyes.  
They signaled behind them, and a group of people Skeppy didn't recognize emerged from the forest. The leader's eyes locked with Skeppy's.  
"Skeppy? Is that you?"  
Skeppy felt his heart race.  
"Punz?"  
And Punz stepped forwards, the rest of his band lowering their weapons. A grin spread across his face.  
"Welcome!"


	35. Danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi,  
> im trying to make an effort to interact - _oh haha funny word hahahahHAHAHAHA_ with my readers, so hi, heres a random note that you have probably stopped reading by now, ok bye  
> 

Skeppy couldn't speak. How- How was Punz _here?_  
He tried to form a sentence, but the only thing that would make it out of his mouth was a garbled string of nonsense. Punz grinned.  
"How did you find us? You're out in - what, Orlando?" Punz questioned, a natural smile on his face. Skeppy finally found his voice.  
"No, I- we ran, drove all the way here, we were planning to go further, but there was a cat and Bad wanted to deliver it and so I-"  
Punz stopped him. "Bad?"  
"Darryl, but Bad is his name because that's what it was in Minecraft," Skeppy tried to explain. Punz stared.  
"Wh- Never mind, it doesn't matter. What does matter is - is Skeppy, _why are you still here?_ "  
Skeppy frowned. "What-"  
"You should be gone by now!" Punz exclaimed. "How have they not caught you yet?"  
Skeppy shrugged. "I- I don't know, we just - we're not being tracked anymore, and we're at a friends house, they're also not being tracked - I think we're safe!"  
Saying that felt surreal. _Safe._  
Could they really be safe?  
Punz shook his head wildly, and for the first time, Skeppy noticed the scar on his head. His mind flashed back to that night, the night where they ran from the camp. Punz handing him supplies. His head bleeding. The gash on his forehead.  
Skeppy shuddered, and Punz spoke. "Don't you understand? They've only been distracted with another criminal, some person in London, but once they're caught, there's no way you'll escape unless you leave!"  
Skeppy shook his head. "London? That's George! He's with us!"  
Punz's face looked horrified. " _With_ you? You'll both get caught!"  
"No, we're safe!" Skeppy insisted. Punz stepped closer, taking his arm.  
"Skeppy, you don't understand! Remember the lockdown? In London?"  
"No- I- No, what lockdown?"  
"It's going to happen here, Skeppy! They're going to lock down Florida, and check every single house, and you're not going to be able to escape!"  
Fear washed over Skeppy. "But-"  
Punz stared at him in the eyes. "You need to leave, Skeppy. Take Darryl and get out of here while you still can."  
Skeppy stumbled back. "But- But I have friends here, Punz! Dream, and George, and Floris, I can't just leave them!"  
"Floris? I know them - they work for the government, Skeppy!"  
"Yeah, but they're with us now! It's fine!"  
Punz squeezed Skeppy's arm so hard it hurt. Skeppy winced.  
"Then take them too, Skeppy. You need to leave."  
And for once, Skeppy believed him. The fear in Punz's eyes was too real for his comfort.  
"But where would I go?"  
Punz shook his head. "I don't know, just leave! Promise me you won't come back here, Skeppy, it's not safe…"  
"Okay…"  
It was barely a whisper, but Punz understood. He pushed Skeppy back.  
"Go, get out of here. It's not safe."  
Skeppy shoved him back, indigent. "No, wait."  
Punz stared, startled, then frowned. "What?"  
"How are _you_ here? You didn't say anything, where's the rest of the group? Illumina, Ponk, Eret- What about them?"  
Punz's face turned to something else. Skeppy could barely distinguish it. Was it…  
Sorrow?  
Skeppy almost regretted asking, but Punz started talking.  
"You saw Ponk? He was…"  
He didn't continue, but a wave of nausea hit Skeppy as he remembered. Ponk had been shot in the leg.  
Skeppy nodded, urging Punz to go on.  
"They… I ran back to the camp to help, but it was too late. All three of them were tied. Illumina was still struggling but Eret had given up and Ponk was knocked out."  
Skeppy's whole body went cold.  
"It was too dangerous. I had to leave, you understand? I couldn't stay…"  
Skeppy nodded slowly, processing what he had just heard.  
"We have outposts all over Florida. I just ran through the forest, reached the end, walked on foot until I found… this outpost."  
Skeppy looked behind him. Three others stood, observing silently.  
Punz waved to them briefly. "Mega, Spifey, Zelk. Our leader is out for the day, so I took over. But it's standard upturn code. They knew who I was, and I knew who they were, so…"  
Skeppy hesitated. "Were you… going to attack me?"  
Punz looked down sheepishly. "I mean yes… it's good that I recognized you in time, you know. We had our drugs ready."  
Skeppy winced, recalling the first time he had been captured. From behind Punz, a brown haired, brown eyed boy with a green scarf silently held up a vial of dry leaves. The forest drugs.  
Skeppy raised an eyebrow, and Punz turned to see what he was looking at. The brown eyed boy held out the vial.  
Punz considered, then took the vial, handing it to Skeppy. "Take them. Might come in handy later on, I don't know."  
Skeppy took the vial. "Thanks-"  
"Don't thank me, thank Mega," Punz replied, nodding to the boy behind him. Mega dipped his head.  
"Thanks," Skeppy grinned. The boy's eyes sparkled.  
Punz turned back to Skeppy. "Enough of this. You really have to go, Skeppy. It's not safe here, now of all times, and you've got George with you? You must be the most wanted group in all of the country!"  
Skeppy sighed. "Yeah, I guess…"  
Punz looked up at the sky. "It's already nearly 7 am, Skeppy. When did you start wandering the forest?"  
Skeppy thought back. "I… I don't know, maybe around quarter past 6?"  
Punz nodded. "I thought so. The forest can recognize you. They like you."  
Skeppy frowned, but didn't dare question it. He got the feeling that Punz usually knew what he was talking about.  
"Even so, you should go," Punz said yet again, his tone pointed. Skeppy looked down.  
"Okay, I'm leaving. Stay safe, Punz."  
Punz smiled slightly. "You too…"  
Skeppy turned and began to walk back the way he had came. Punz watched, then turned back to his group.  
With a silent signal, they slipped back into the forest.


	36. I'm taking a break

I'm really sorry everyone, but something at school came up and I'm having a really hard time right now, so this story will not be updated for at least a week. Thank you so much for understanding, ily <3


	37. Fired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK LETS GOOOOO  
> First of all thanks for the support on the fic and stuff, ily all and it means the world that you actually like my story :)  
> Secondly, a lot is going on for me right now, so this fic is going to have a more relaxed update schedule, probably every 2-4 days.  
> AND THANK YOU FOR 2.5K HITS ITS SURREAL  
> (even if its not a lot i dont care ok)  
> Ily and thanks for reading <3

There weren't any s-mobs on the road. Skeppy made sure none were coming before he darted out from the forest and up the stairs to Dream's house.  
His heart was beating fast, but not because of the dash to the house. No, he was still… stunned from what had happened in the forest.  
His palms were sweating, but he held the vial Mega had given him tight in his hand, concealing it from view. He paused to take a breath and then carefully pushed open Dream's front door.  
Coast clear. Skeppy slipped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it silently and walking into the house. He could hear Bad and Dream talking upstairs, so he went to join them.  
The door was ajar when he reached the top of the stairs, so he pushed it open, the vial still concealed in his hand.  
Dream was standing, Bad sitting and eagerly fiddling with the mouse as block characters hopped around on screen. Dream turned at the sound of the door being pushed open and grinned at Skeppy.  
"What's up?"  
Skeppy smiled back. "Nothing, nothing. Just took a walk around the house," he lied seamlessly. Dream's face changed slightly, but he kept the smile strong.  
"Where to?"  
"Nowhere, just out to the fields and back," Skeppy responded. Dream nodded slowly, and Skeppy felt his face heat up. He ignored it and turned to Bad, tapping him on the shoulder.  
Bad turned, and Skeppy paused, watching his face. He seemed happy, genuinely happy, not happy like he had been when he had been working for the government.  
Skeppy liked seeing him like that.  
"Hey!" Bad exclaimed, and Skeppy felt his face light up in return. "Hey, what are you doing?"  
Bad's grin didn't leave his face. "Dream's teaching me to speedrun!"  
"Neat," Skeppy replied, the smile slowly coming back to his face.  
At that precise moment, a phone went off.  
It was the same old beeping, and the three boys reached for their pockets simultaneously, Bad and Skeppy bringing out their phones while Dream frowned as he searched his own pockets.  
Skeppy stared at his blank screen, and then laughed. "Same ringer, of course! It's your phone, isn't it Dream?"  
"Probably," Dream replied. "Left it downstairs. I'll be right back-"  
Skeppy nodded, and Dream took off down the stairs two at a time. Instantly, Skeppy turned to Bad.  
"Remember the forest upturns?"  
Bad must have sensed the change in his voice, because his face grew solemn. "Yeah, what about them?"  
"I met them this morning," Skeppy replied in an urgent whisper. "Out in the back of the forest. But I don't want anyone to know, okay? They gave me this -" He held up the vial - "And told me to get out of Florida because they're going to lock it down. We need to leave, Bad, and take Dream and George with us-"  
Bad cut him off. "Wait, you met who?"  
"Punz, Mega, some others I don't remember - they're part of a different group. The others got taken by the government, Punz told me, but it doesn't matter right now. We need to leave, Bad!"  
Bad stared at Skeppy, and the fear in his eyes made Skeppy's heart speed up with his own worry. "I don't want to run again…"  
Skeppy nodded. "I know, but it's true. London is already in lockdown. What's going to stop them from taking Florida?"  
Bad looked away. "Are you going to tell Dream?"  
Skeppy hesitated. "I… I guess so, I didn't really think about it…"  
Bad shrugged. "Yeah, okay. When do we leave?"  
He seemed to fine all of a sudden, it took Skeppy aback. "Tomorrow, I guess? I'm not sure-"  
Bad nodded. "Ok. I'll pack tonight."  
He turned back to the computer. Skeppy grabbed his arm. "Bad, why-"  
"Skeppy? Bad?"  
Dream's shout echoed from below. "Coming!" Skeppy yelled back, and then gently took Bad's hand. "It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be fine."  
Bad nodded, but his face didn't change. Standing up, he pushed roughly past Skeppy and hurried down the stairs.  
Skeppy followed, pushing away the nagging guilt that seemed to be taking over his head and hurrying down the stairs.  
Dream had the phone in his hands, and he set it down on the table. "Fundy is on his way back."  
"Floris? What? Why?" Skeppy stepped forwards, confusion on his face.  
Dream shook his head. "They were already suspicious of him from when he randomly left. Apparently he got there and they just… fired him."  
Skeppy stared. "Just like that?"  
Dream nodded. "I know, I don't get it either. But he's… done, he's coming to live with us, and- oh, and he has news. They were going to lock down Florida, but now they're not going to."  
The doubt was slowly creeping in. Skeppy shook his head. "That makes no sense. What, they just gave up on finding us?"  
Dream shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so…"  
Bad stepped in. "So we're not leaving?"  
"Leaving?" Dream asked, but Skeppy interrupted. "Like because of the lockdown. I guess we don't have to go anywhere, do we?"  
Dream shook his head. "Here is fine. Fundy says he'll explain more when he gets back, but until then, we're just going to have to wait."  
Skeppy couldn't get it in his head. They had actually given up?  
That's not what Punz had said would happen.  
It didn't make sense.

In a s-mob halfway across Orlando, Floris was making his way back, genuine confusion scattered across his thoughts.  
He was fired. Just like that.  
For no apparent reason.  
And Florida wasn't going to lock down. They had seemingly given up on finding George, Skeppy, Bad- everyone.  
It wasn't something he had seen coming. The government didn't ever just… give up like that. No, it wasn't normal.  
But he wasn't being tracked. He was gone, sent just to "live alone" for the rest of his days. Let go, just like that. Completely out of the blue.  
It didn't feel right.  
No, something wasn't right.  
But he ignored it and kept driving.


	38. News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh  
> again im sorry for the lack of updates, life just seems to be digging a hole straight into the ground for me to fall into and somehow im already past bedrock-  
> we're actually almost at 3k hits and that means... a lot, so thanks so much for reading and like supporting my story, ily  
> also the story is aaaaaaalmost over... it went so fast, i actually cant believe it...  
> thanks again for reading :)

"Fundy's here!" Dream called up the stairs. Skeppy watched in slight amusement.  
Dream waited a second, then shook his head. "George is probably still sleeping," he groaned. Bad suppressed a giggle.  
Dream shook his head. "Come on," he sighed, motioning to the door.  
Skeppy took the right, while Bad took the left. Even though it was only Floris, they couldn't ever be... too safe.  
Dream took a deep breath, then opened the door. Floris grinned at him from the steps, and Dream felt his own face relax. "Come in," he smiled, stepping aside as both Bad and Skeppy relaxed their stances and smiled at Floris.  
Floris stepped inside, and Dream closed the door behind him. "Where'd you put the s-mob?"  
"In the fields," Floris replied. "I walked up from the left."  
Dream nodded. "Do you have any news for us?"  
Floris grinned. "I think you'd better sit down."  
Dream raised an eyebrow, but motioned to the table in the other room. Both Skeppy and Bad sat down, and Dream pulled up an extra chair, seating himself and Floris on opposite ends of the table.  
"Good to see you again, Floris," Skeppy said cautiously, and Floris grinned. "Same here, Skeppy."  
Bad smiled. "So tell us, Floris. What happened?"  
Floris winced. "Quite… quite a lot, actually." He paused.  
"Basically, I arrived by s-mob and parked in my usual spot. I walked up to the door, showed my old ID, and walked in as usual. But…"  
He shook his head. "The head of our building was there. He doesn't come in very often, and I had absolutely no idea he was in that day. He asked to talk to me, so I went to his office. I remember his very words. He said 'Floris, we no longer require your services here. You are instructed by the government to go to your home and stay there. You may not acquire another job with us, and therefore you are officially retired.' "  
Dream stared, open mouthed. "That's it? Just like that?"  
Floris shrugged. "Yeah, but there's more: As I was walking out, one of the new officers approached me. They told me that the Florida had plans to lockdown, but they weren't going to go through, and that Florida would remain open. London is also opening back up in a couple of days, and they said that the search for George and Darryl and Zak as well - all of them, it's just over. They've given up."  
Skeppy narrowed his eyebrows, but Floris continued. "It's really weird, and I didn't believe it, but I verified it with a couple of other officers before I left, and… it's true. We're… we're safe."  
Bad shook his head. "I don't believe it."  
Floris nodded. "But why would they lie to me? I have nothing to do with anything, not anymore, and I've known some of these people for a long time. The new officer wasn't lying, not that they could tell."  
Dream spoke up. "Does the new officer have a name?"  
Floris rolled his eyes. "He goes by Eret, I think. Something like that."  
Skeppy's blood ran cold, but he didn't say a word. Bad shot him a side glance, but he didn't react.  
Eret. Eret was with them.  
It couldn't be true.  
But Dream just nodded. "Sounds familiar. They must be higher up on the ranking list."  
Floris nodded. "Probably."  
There was silence, and then Dream stood. "I'll go tell George," he said, turning towards the stairs. Floris nodded. "Ok."  
Dream ascended the staircase, then turned back. "Fundy, you can take your old room. Set it up however you'd like."  
Fundy nodded. "Thanks!"  
Dream nodded back, then made his way to George's room, knocking carefully on the door. There was no answer, so he pushed it open.  
George was sitting cross legged on his bed, staring at his phone.  
Dream grinned, inviting himself in and shutting the door behind him. "George?"  
George looked up. "Oh, hi there, _Dream,_ " he grinned, standing and pulling the other boy in for a kiss.  
Dream held it for a moment, then broke away, smiling like an idiot. It was amazing that George could make him feel this way.  
"Did you hear?"  
George frowned. "Hear what?"  
"Floris is back. He got fired, basically. And London's going to open up again in a few days, and Florida was going to be on lockdown, but now it's not - oh, and you're not wanted anymore. The government has given up."  
George stared. "What do you mean, given up?"  
Dream grinned. "It doesn't get much simpler than this, George. You're not wanted anymore. Neither are Skeppy or Bad. It's over. We're… safe."  
George sat in shock for a moment, and then a grin spread over his face. "Really?"  
Dream nodded, and George launched himself at Dream, burying his face in Dream's shoulder. Dream held him tight.  
After a moment, they broke away. The grin didn't leave George's face. "But I can stay here, can't I?"  
Dream rolled his eyes. "Of course, George. Fundy is here, too, for the time being."  
George grinned. "Epic."  
And for once, Dream didn't disagree.  
Everything was going right.

Downstairs, Bad and Skeppy were still seated.  
Skeppy had the vial from Mega in his hand, but he dropped it into the pocket on his sweatshirt, concealing it from view.  
He waited for a moment, then stood, pushing back his chair and turning towards the entrance to the front door. Bad frowned.  
"Where are you going?"  
Skeppy shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Just for a walk to the fields, I guess. I'll be back soon," he replied, as casually as he could.  
Bad narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded. "Stay safe, Skeppy. You don't know how much of what Floris is saying is… true."  
Skeppy nodded. "I know."  
Bad smiled, and Skeppy returned the gesture, before pulling on his shoes and pushing open the door for the second time that day. He stepped outside and shut the door behind him, turning right almost immediately.  
Because he had lied. He knew exactly where he was going.  
He was going to the forest.


	39. Something to Fight For

Skeppy glanced around quickly, just to make sure nobody was there, then walked around the house to the edge of the forest. He would have to be careful, he knew that. But now that the government wasn't actively pursuing them…  
He felt better. Relieved. The weight was gone from his shoulders.  
He couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he walked through the forest. It was warmer out now, being mid-day, and the sunlight was beautiful, as always.  
But something felt different.  
The birds weren't chirping.  
It was a small difference, but one that made Skeppy feel… uneasy. In all his times visiting the forests, whether at his house or Dream's, the birds had never, ever been silent. Not like this.  
But he shook it off, and walked the same way he had gone the last time, thinking of what he would say to Punz. They wouldn't know about Eret, would they? Probably not… and Florida wasn't in lockdown, so they could stay safely?  
There was just so much he had to say, and it was evident in his eager step as he ventured deeper into the forest. As he reached the glade where he had been stopped before, he paused, the strange silence making him shiver.  
There was nobody there.  
Skeppy wandered a bit further, looking around, but to no avail. There was absolutely no sign of any of the Upturns.  
It was as if they had just… vanished.  
Skeppy hesitated, then cupped his hands to his mouth. "Punz? Mega?" He turned, facing the opposite area of the forest. "Spifey?"  
There was no answer.  
Skeppy wanted to stay, but his instincts told him otherwise. No sound in the forest, and now the Upturns were nowhere to be seen? No, this wasn't normal.  
This was dangerous.  
Skeppy took a step back, carefully, then turned and began to walk back the way he had came, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't recall ever being this scared while in a forest. Usually, forests were… his home.  
But not here. Not now.  
Skeppy picked up the pace, glancing around him uneasily as he hurried back. The forest looked just as beautiful as always, but the silence was unnerving.  
Before long, he had reached the back corner of Dream's house. Skeppy looked back once, just once…  
He thought he saw a shadow, but it was gone before he could register it. Shaking his head, Skeppy stepped up onto the pathway and opened the front door.  
He was met with chaos.  
There were yells, shouts, coming from… everywhere. He could make out Floris's voice from above.  
"Skeppy? Are you there?"  
There was a frantic tone to Floris's voice, and Skeppy didn't waste a second, running to the steps. "I'm down here!"  
Bad came out from the kitchen, noticing Skeppy by the foot of the stairs. "What's going on? I heard Floris yelling-"  
"Skeppy, please come up, I don't know what's going on but I can hear Dream and I don't know what to do-"  
Skeppy grabbed Bad by the arm, running up the stairs with Bad next to him. He reached the top and crossed the hall to Floris's room, coming face to face with Floris.  
"What's wrong?"  
Floris shook his head. "I can hear Dream, in George's room, and I don't know what's going on but I don't think they're okay and I don't know if I should go in or not-"  
Skeppy turned away instantly, his heart speeding up, all thoughts of the forest gone. He could hear George yelling as well, but couldn't make out what he was saying.  
"Let's go."  
Floris didn't object as Skeppy practically ran to George's room, knocking on the door. When nobody answered, he pushed on it lightly.  
It didn't budge.  
Skeppy took a deep breath, then rammed his shoulder into the door. He yelped in pain, but it did the trick - the door shot open and him, Floris and Bad all burst into the room.  
Skeppy hit the ground hard, but pushed himself up, seeing Dream on the bed. The sight took his breath away.  
Dream was holding George upright, tears trailing down his cheeks. George was sitting on the bed, straight as a board, his eyes glassed over, unmoving.  
Skeppy leapt to his feet, hurrying to Dream. "What's going on?"  
Dream didn't answer, and Skeppy grabbed his hand urgently. "Dream, talk to me, what's happening?"  
Dream tried to inhale, but hiccuped, tears streaming down his face. "I was just talking to George and he stopped… stopped talking, he won't respond and I don't know what to do…"  
Skeppy turned to face George, and after a second of hesitation, waved a hand in front of his face.  
George didn't move a muscle.  
Skeppy turned back to Dream. "How long has he been like this?"  
Dream shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "5 minutes maybe, I don't know…"  
It threw Skeppy off, seeing Dream like this, but he pushed through, taking George shoulder and shaking him lightly. It didn't do a thing.  
Behind him, Bad rushed over, gently shoving Skeppy aside. "Let me see."  
He took George's wrist, flipping it lightly to expose his broken band, and checked for a pulse. It was there, steady, seemingly normal. He let George's wrist go, stepping back.  
"His pulse is fine, I don't know what's wrong-"  
George tensed, gasping, and Bad stumbled back with a cry. Dream, however, grabbed George's arm instantly.  
"George?"

"George?"  
George squinted through blurry eyes, making out the face of… Dream? Yes, Dream. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He didn't have much time.  
"Dr...Dream, I…"

Dream was crying, tears flowing down his cheeks. "George, talk to me, please…"

George tried to talk, but couldn't find his voice. He slumped in Dream's arms, fighting to keep his eyes open.  
No. Not like this.  
"Dream… Dream, I've… The government, I'm not safe…"

Dream shook his head. "I don't understand you, George…"

It had taken almost all of his energy to get out that one sentence, and George almost let his eyes slip shut.  
But he could see Dream.  
Dream. Dream was who he would fight for.  
He took in a deep breath.

Dream held him gently, letting him slide back onto the bed. "I love you, George, talk to me…"

George couldn't find the energy to cry, but inside, he was bawling.  
One last sentence.  
He looked up at Dream, into his beautiful green eyes that he wouldn't ever be able to see normally. That was what made them so beautiful.  
He wanted to kiss Dream, more than anything else in the world.  
But he couldn't.  
One last sentence.  
"I'm so sorry, Dream. I've been selected for testing."  
His sight blurred before he could see his best friend's reaction.  
The best friend he had in this world.  
He felt his limbs give out, sliding to the floor as the world turned hazy.  
The last thing he heard was Dream's sobs.

**End of Book 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. We made it.  
> First of all, thank you so much to everyone who read, left kudos or whatever those are, commented, supported me in any way - there's no way I would have made it this far without your support, and it means the world. So thank you.  
> Book 2, Division, comes out a week from now, if you want to read it or something, idk-  
> I honestly don't know what to say. I hope you liked the book, I had a lot of fun writing it, and it's really awesome to be able to share this with you people out there who read it - I didn't ever think I would receive this much support and it means... a lot.  
> This note is more professional than I thought it would be, wow-  
>  _anyways_  
>  Again, thank you.  
> See you in Book 2.


	40. Division now out!

It's happened: Division is out now! Read it from my profile or click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126022).  
Again, a big thanks to the 23 of you who are subscribed to me, and also to everyone who read, left kudos, bookmarked, or commented on my fic - it's greatly appreciated and I wouldn't be writing this if I hadn't received this support, so thank you <3  
I'm really excited for this, writing Interaction was so much fun and I'm glad I can keep going-  
Here are the plugs. They were honestly due to happen, sorry-  
Twitter: <https://twitter.com/LostOurWings>  
Wattpad (go follow me if you want): <https://www.wattpad.com/user/LostOurWings>  
Okay, I've delayed it enough. Thanks for reading Interaction, and see you in Division!


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